


That Which is Lost

by Esc



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate Universe - Triads, Burns, Casual Sex, Characters created just to kill off, Equalists - Freeform, F/M, Gambling, Korra being traumatized, Minor Character Death, Oral Sex, Poor Life Choices, Racism, Rain, Red Monsoons, Stabbed and left for dead, Triads, Vaginal Sex, agni kais, long prologue, main character committing horrible crimes, mentions of rape and prostitution, so much fucking rain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-04 15:31:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 36,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3073070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esc/pseuds/Esc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Red Monsoons treated Korra well, even if she was just a thug for them. As long as they believed that she was only a waterbender, everything could continue. She could remain in the family, with her brothers and sisters in arms. She couldn't let anything ruin that for her.  Not even an antibending uprising. Not even an Agni Kai seeing her firebending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: 07/07/17 So. It's been a while. I've tried several times to continue this story, but the truth is this: I can't do it. I mean I physically can't. I wrote this fic during the darkest time of my life. This fic was me coping with depression, anxiety, and suicide. I was looking at my notes and it was actually supposed to end with Korra killing herself. I stopped writing when I started to get better. After medication, therapy, and coming out as bisexual, I am in a much better place, surrounded by people who love and support me. But when I try to continue this story, it puts me back in the mindframe I had when I first started it. After forcing myself to write to the point of a panic attack, I've decided it's not worth it. I've loved this show, this fandom, and this story, but at the end of the day I love myself more. Thank you to everyone who has read and enjoyed this story. I'm sorry it's ending this way. But there's porn at the end, so you get to enjoy that!!!!!

_The Avatar is reborn, just as the cycle dictates. One dies, another must come forth. Water to earth. Earth to fire. Fire to air. Air to water._

_The Avatar spirit has chosen many different souls to suit its needs; humans from different walks of life and with different blood in their veins. From farmers and nobleman, warriors and maidens, those with nothing and those with wealth to spare, the Avatar has emerged and lead the world to balance._

_For when the spirit chooses a new Avatar, petty things which divide us are inconsequential. It decides based on the strength of heart the new Avatar will need. The strength that will help them maintain the balance of the world._

_But even the Avatar Spirit cannot foretell the future._

_It cannot know when the decisions of humans, so very flighty creatures they are, could make a young Avatar stray from the balance. It cannot be sure that the goodness that the Avatar was born with won’t be buried by the harshness of the world._

_Because even though the Avatar is to be the great bridge between the spirit world and the human world, they are still human. And humans are always in danger of corruption. In an instant, a human can become a thief, or a murderer, or a monster._

_Not even the Avatar is immune to this._

.o.O.o.

Korra was the Avatar.

Senna sat with her back against the wall as she stared at Korra. Her little girl, curled up on the tattered furs that created a small nest, her expression far too innocent in her little round moon of a face. Even in sleep, Korra’s lip jutted out in a defiant pout.

She’d always had a personality that was so much more stubborn and fiery than Senna had ever been as a child. Senna had assumed that she simply took after her father; her wonderful, impulsive, shamed father, who had the unmovable force of the ocean.

Senna’s fingers curled around the singed parka in her hands tightly, the blackened fabric popping a few seams under the pressure. Or perhaps, Senna thought with a bitter smile, she took after the fire and earth that ran through her veins.

A heavy hand fell on her shoulder, and Senna blinked away the tears that had begun to make the colours of her daughter run like an image seen through frost-plated glass. She gently rested her hand over her husbands and looked up at Tonraq’s solemn face. He kneeled so that their eyes were level.

“I got rid of everything she burned,” he murmured, his pale eyes darting towards the door, “I brought them to the ice’s edge and let them sink. That parka is all that’s left. No one has to know what she did.”

Senna looked down, slowly uncurling her fingers from the half-finished, half-destroyed article. She’d worked so hard to make something nice for her first and only child. And now it stained her skin with ash and fear.

“That compound in Kekertuk,” She said softly as she handed him the parka, “It’s finished. Rakki said she saw it last week. She said it’s surrounded by walls of ice and stone that are fifty feet high and could probably keep _anything_ from getting in,” Her voice trembled, “Or could keep anything from getting out.”

Tonraq curled his arms around Senna, the entirety of her tiny frame seeming to disappear into him. The parka slipped from his fingers and crumpled on the floor as he rested his hand on her back.

“They’re _not_ going to take our daughter away,” he whispered into her hair, his voice cracking slightly, “We’re not going to let anyone lock her up in that prison. You hear me? _We won’t let them._ ”

Senna’s hand tightened in the fabric of his shirt.

“But with who she is, Tonraq,” she said, “and who she will have to become, wouldn’t it be selfish to try and hide her?”

Tonraq pushed her away from him, gently, just enough to see her eyes. He leaned forward until their noses were almost grazing each other, his warm breath ghosting across her face.

“No,” he growled, voice rising, “ _They’re_ the selfish ones. They should't be allowed to lock up a _child_ for her entire life because of this… this destiny that was forced upon her,” Senna tried to look away, but Tonraq placed his hands against her cheeks and turned her face back towards him, “We will not deny Korra who she is, Senna,” he insisted, “We'll train her waterbending until we feel she is ready to move on to master the other elements. But the Order of the White Lotus? We can’t let them get a hold of her. They’ll hide her away from us and we’ll never see her again.”

Senna’s brow creased as she looked over at Korra’s sleeping form. She thought about the night, months ago, when Korra's foot had jerked out with a dream-kick and her shin had connected with a shelf holding the family’s clay pots and bowls. They'd all crashed down, waking Senna and Tonraq with a terrible jolt. Korra slept through the entire ordeal, unbothered by the chaos.

Senna swallowed, her fingers trembling.

“Alright,” she said quietly, looking back at Tonraq, “Alright.”

...

After that very little was discussed in the way of plans. There wasn’t much to pack, and there was only one place they could really hide, a place that accepted hundreds of people from the Water Tribes every day. A city, one that was big enough to disappear into and was such a strange combination of the four nations that no one would expect the Avatar to be there.

Republic City.

They left that night, on a trade ship bound for the United Republic of Nations, leaving behind an empty house and the silence of goodbyes they could never speak.

.o.O.o.

Korra sat at the edge of their balcony, wedged in the corner of two low walls that were spotty with wear and rot and little things that had burrowed inside the wood. It was a puny thing, as far as balconies go, narrow enough between the sliding door to the railing that she could push her back up against one and her feet against the other. She ran her hand over the floor, set into place years ago by people who had built this city wedged between the mountain side and the shoreline like a girl wedged between two walls on her balcony.

She hadn't quite formed a concrete opinion on Republic City yet. She liked it in a lot of ways, liked how it was big, and busy, and how there were more than a few kids her age in the neighbourhood to play with, but she was still bitterly homesick.

In the South Pole, there had been a constant movement of the ocean that lurked just beneath the layers of ice and snow, the lack of which made her waterbending ache restlessly. She missed her home; the snowy mornings, the familiar faces of the villagers she had known since birth, and the smell of stewing sea prunes and seal jerky and burning logs of seawood.

In Republic City, the ocean was still close, with an entire bay named after the moon, but it was different than at home. The water was dirty, laced with oil and sewage and city runoff that made her want to gag. Rain fell from the sky instead of snowflakes, downpour that never seemed to stop long enough for the sun to peak through the clouds. And the city always smelt like Satomobile exhaust, rotting things, and urine.

She would rather go home, to her _real_ home in the south, than stay in Republic city for another month, week, or day. But her parents had made it very clear that the decision wasn't hers to make. So instead she tried to find things to hold onto in the city that helped her forget her longing for home.

There was a creak as someone stepped onto the neighbour's balcony. Korra looked up as a pair of pale hands appeared on the railing they shared, the top of a head bouncing in and out of view as Quan tried to see over the railing.

"Korra? You there?" he asked, the scrapping of shoes rasping next to Korra's ear as he tried to get some traction on the wood, a pair of dark brown eyes finally coming into view as he managed to get his elbows under him.

Korra grinned at Quan, standing up so they were face to face. She was taller than him by quite a bit, eight years old to his six, and didn't need to do any scrambling to peak onto his balcony. He scowled at her, cheeks flushing red.

"Do you want to come over? Grandpa Ju Rin says he'll play Pai Sho with us!" said Quan, eyes bright. Korra stopped herself from grimacing. She was not a fan of Pai Sho; it involved too much thinking to be any fun. But Quan _adored_ the game, always begging her to play him and his grandfather, and Korra knew that if she wanted him to put up with her bending mud into his face later she would have to allow it.

With a quick glance over her shoulder at the dark window of her family’s empty apartment (both of her parents off working at the docks until well past sunset) she grunted a quiet affirmation.

"Okay," she said, gripping the railing with both hands, "Here I come."

Quan squawked, scrambling to move out of the way (tripping and face planting in the process) as Korra launched herself over the divide, landing hard on the wood of his balcony. She stumbled forward a few steps as she tried to avoid stomping on him, her balance failing for an instant. A shout and a thump later, and she was down, a little splat of a boy squished beneath her.

She laid there for a few seconds longer, Quan struggling slightly beneath her and her chin aching from the impact with the floor. Quan elbowed her.

"O _www_ w," Quan moaned, "why can't you just use the _door_?"

Korra pouted, giving him a hard knee in the side as she moved to stand up.

"Because you’re _stupid_ ," she snapped, stomping over to the sliding door leading into Quan's apartment as he shouted after her that that didn't even make _sense_.

Ju Rin was already waiting with the Pai Sho board set up, kneeling in his preferred spot facing the window (so he could watch the pigeonmice fly by as he considered his next move). He was _really_ old, with a face deeply creased and silver hair he kept smoothed to his skull with grease that came out of a tin.

Back when this apartment was still new to her and Korra still hadn’t quite understood that she wasn’t going back to the South Pole, he had told her that his and Quan's family had been in Republic City since before it had existed, back during the Hundred Year War when it had been a Fire Nation colony. She had asked if that made him Earth Kingdom or Fire Nation, and he had simply shrugged and said both. Korra had just scowled at him, sceptical.

Today a pot of tea was set out, steaming next to three chipped cups, and Korra forced herself not to grimace. She _hated_ Ju Rin's tea.

She kneeled down next to Ju Rin, fiddling with the edge of her shirt.

"Could I have just hot water?" she asked, gloomily.

She already knew what answer was coming.

"Nonsense, child," Ju Rin said with a laugh, "No game of Pai Sho is complete without proper tea to warm the spirit!"

Korra didn't answer at first, pouting at her knees as she waited for Quan to sit across from her. She leaned forward conspiratorially.

"Afterwards," she whispered, "Want to help me practice waterbending?"

Quan's expression became one of horror in an instant, getting a bark of laughter out of Ju Rin.

.o.O.o.

Korra had been forbidden from bending. Well, not _bending_ , exactly. She just wasn't allowed to earthbend, firebend, or airbend (not that she'd ever been able to do that last one anyways, but it had been forbidden all the same). Waterbending was deemed acceptable by her parents, but even that had to be used with caution. There were many rules her parents had set down when they had reached their new two-story apartment building.

She wasn't allowed to _tell_ anyone she was the Avatar; no, not even Quan and Ju Rin. She wasn't allowed to _show_ anyone she was the Avatar, nor _hint_ to it, _joke_ about it, or even ask too many questions about the Avatar. When she bent water, which she was not allowed doing when her parents were not present, she had to leave the neighbourhood and travel several blocks to the park with the slow-moving river running through it. She was to _avoid_ getting into altercations with the metalbending police, she was to _avoid_ men with red scarves tied around their upper arms, and overall she was to _avoid_ drawing too much attention to herself.

As she stood in the middle of the street in front of her house, muddy rainwater bending around her fingertips in lazy circles, she thought of how mad her mother would be if she saw her then, and then proceeded to stop thinking about it.

She waited for Quan to surrender with a cruel grin. He was soaked from head to toe, the light rain hardly helping him in his endeavors as he rung out the bottom of his shirt. He looked like a half-drowned owlcat, but there was still a little twist of defiance in his face left over from beating Korra earlier in Pai Sho (again and again and _again_ ). He steeled himself for a moment, glaring sharply at Korra.

With a shout, he ran forward, arms thrown in front of his face as a handful of water was hurled at him, and tried to tackle Korra with a dive towards her midsection. She stepped out of the way, letting him fall in a puddle. Korra considered him for a moment, Quan pushing himself onto all fours with water dripping from his lips as he gasped for breath, and then shrugged. She reached out a hand and, with a tensing of her fingers, froze the puddle solid. He yelped, hands suddenly trapped in ice.

“ _Korra_!” he shouted, trying (unsuccessfully) to yank his hands free, “No fair! Let me _go_.”

Korra just giggled, turning on her toe as she pulled more water out of the rain to twist around her in a hoop.

“If I do as you say, what will you give me?” she sang.

Quan stopped struggling for a moment, pursing his lips and thinking hard.

“A mangopeach?” he said finally, eyes flickering up to her face. Korra considered it. A moment later the puddle collapsing back into liquid as Quan pulled his hands free with a gasp of relief. Korra giggled, tapping his shoulder with her foot.

“I won’t forget about that mangopeach,” she said. Quan nodded quickly, but Korra caught a glimpse of him rolling his eyes as he turned away.

“Whatever,” he grumbled; getting to his feet, water dripping off of him everywhere water could possibly drip, including a steady stream off the tip of his nose, “I’m going back home.”

Korra chased after him, prepared to protest, but her words were stopped short as Quan suddenly froze up right in front of her and she crashed into his back. She reeled back, fully prepared to give him a full barrage of _what is your problem_ when she saw what he was staring at.

There were three imposing figures, standing at the apartment landlord’s door, talking to him with low voices and sharp smiles. They all had red scarves tied around their arms.

“Agni Kais” Quan muttered, eyes darting to the staircase that lead up to their apartments, the first steps mere feet away from the trio and the landlord. The old man looked just about ready to cry, making urgent gestures with his hands as he spoke rapidly to the thugs. One of them, the tallest, laughed, leaning against the doorframe so that he leered over the landlord.

Korra swallowed, her hand shooting out to clamp around Quan's wrist. After a mutual glance and a silent conversation between them (' _don't even_ think _about it'_ Quan's eyes said) she chanced a few steps towards the staircase, Quan dragged quietly behind her. He seemed to forget to struggle, eyes locked on the Agni Kais.

As they approached, Korra caught a few words that the landlord blubbered through his tears.

“—xt month, definitely. It’s just that I lost so many tenants recently and the income hasn’t been enough—,”

“We don’t care,” the tallest Agni Kai interrupted as Korra placed her foot on the first step, his harsh voice making her freeze, “And Ranshao sure as hell isn’t going to care. So you can get us our _fucking money_ —,”

He was elbowed in the ribs by one of his colleagues, a woman with one long brown braid resting against her shoulder. The man turned on her with a harsh _‘what?!_ ’ She nodded towards Korra and Quan. All three Agni Kais turned to look at the two of them, the landlord staring with wide, terrified eyes. Korra tried not to look at the glaring red scarves on their sleeves, instead looking steadily into the tall one's eyes. They were light brown, rimmed with kohl.

"Hey," the third Agni Kai, a white hat pulled low over his eyes, called out, "waterbender."

Korra swallowed around the heart in her throat.

"I—me?"

The man snorted, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he exchanged an amused glance with his comrades.

"Do you see any _other_ Water Tribe brats standing here?"

Korra didn't say anything, but her eyes narrowed into a glare, her lower lip jutting out. The man with the hat tilted his head back, the fire nation gold flashing dangerously in his eyes.

"Where are your parents on this _fine_ day?"

"Working," said Korra. She wondered if he was being sarcastic. Firebenders didn't like rain, right? She wasn't sure; she hadn't met very many.

"I see," the man said, nodding, "and did they work hard enough to pay the rent this month?"

Korra's mind jumped to last week, her mother begging the landlord for more time, shedding tears over the money they didn't have, hands chapped and blistered from the dock work.

"Yes," she said.

The man nodded.

"Interesting," he said leaning forward, the creases of his face deepening as he smiled, "especially when I've already been informed that, and I quote, 'the new Water Tribe family has been behind on their payments'."

Korra heard the landlord clear his throat nervously. She hardened her jaw, her stance widening minutely. Quan was cowering behind her, as if the power of the Agni Kais' glares was making him smaller. Korra tried to return it tenfold, but the man just chuckled, low and raspy, under his breath. Korra harrumphed.

"So what?" she said. Quan made a strangled noise behind her.

"So," the man said, smiling coldly, "where'd the money they earned from _working_ go? Did you poor barbarians get taken in by a loan shark? Does your mommy work hard in the Candle Light district every night to try and make enough to pay it back? She probably gets plenty of customers. If you're anything to go by, she's got to be lovely. You'll be a looker yourself in a few years."

The woman laughed, the sound coming from the top of her tongue as she threw her braid over her shoulder. The tallest man frowned.

"That's rude, bro," he said, "It’s just a couple of kids--,"

The man with the hat slapped his shoulder, hard, in what appeared to be a combination of comradery and warning. He fell immediately silent, turning back toward the landlord.

"If the money's not in by tomorrow," he said, "you won't have to worry about paying it anymore. But just a warning, this building has been a terrible fire hazard for years. And if it burns to the ground..." he threw his arms up in an 'it's out of our hands' motion.

The landlord was pale as snow by the time the Agni Kais turned and left, the man with the hat the apex of their retreating backs.

For a tense moment, Korra's eyes met the landlord's.

"Well," he said, voice trembling as hard as his shoulders, "that's not good."

Korra agreed, her hand tightening around Quan's wrist.

.o.O.o.

A few days later, Korra sat on the balcony again, her back pressed up against the wood as she tipped her head back to watch the pouring rain with almost bored admiration.

She was quickly learning that Republic City spent a lot of time overcast, with leagues of water falling from the sky. Quan said he hated it, but she honestly thought it was pretty. The raindrops flew, as free as air until they hit the pavement and were reminded that things without wings can only fall, never fly. The pavement always shone brightly with their failures, an ocean a millimeter deep. It made her senses thrum with power, even though the moon was waning close to becoming completely dark and the ice and snow of home were a million miles away.

Her parents were home. They both had the night off from the noodle house down in the Water Tribe district where they worked on days off and in evenings. It was a rare event, and one which her mother was celebrating by brewing a weak sea prune broth with bits of precious fish. Korra could smell it, but she didn't want to go inside. Not yet.

Her fingertips were chilled, and Korra could feel the warmth in her chest swelling in response. She wasn't sure when the little warmth in her chest first appeared; perhaps it had always been there, unnoticed, thought to be normal when she felt a swell of heat against her ribs with every deep breath of air. That is, until the heat shot away from her chest in a line down her arm and out of her fingers. Firebending.

Fire and Water. They were two elements within her that jostled for her attention, and yet lived in harmony. Waterbending in her gut, firebending in her lungs. She wondered where the earthbending was, or the airbending.

Yesterday, she'd asked her mother if air flowed like water did. Her mother's only response was a stern look and bark of _"don't ask things like that."_ The rejection had stung.

A cold gust of wind brought a wave of raindrops with it, falling on Korra's hair and bare arms. The warmth swelled again, making the droplets evaporate into tiny lines of steam. She inhaled through her nose. Her inner warmth, her inner _fire_ , roared in her ears, rain dissolving into air before they had the chance to even touch her skin. She could feel sweat spotting her forehead, cheeks flaming red with heat, too much heat, pent up and put into a pressurized container named Korra. She reached out her hands, cupping them, and exhaled slowly through her mouth.

A flame appeared in her palm, tiny and flickering.

Korra quickly blew the flame out, as if it was a candle. But even as it disappeared into a spot of fading purple in her vision, she smiled a secret smile.

That was when the world exploded in flames.

.o.O.o.

Later that day, as her burns are being treated by a strange Water Tribe man who called himself Kasen, Korra would learn that her building had been burned down by Agni Kais because of the payment the landlord had failed to meet.

Before that, as she ran from her life from a man with a red scarf on his arm, Korra would throw a spear of ice over her shoulder in sheer panic. It was to be the first time she ever killed another human.

Before that, she would find Quan’s body, burned to death in the street in front of the apartment, a bag of groceries paradoxically untouched on the pavement next to him. The bag would have leeks and cabbage in it, condensation clinging to their leaves in the heat of the flames. Based on where the bag had fallen, he had been attacked from behind.

Before that, she would see her mother’s surprised face through the apartment’s window as the building caught on fire far too fast to be natural. Not in this storm, with rain falling as hard as it was. Korra would barely manage to get a sheet of water bent around her as the explosion went off, and her mother disappeared in a burst of light and heat.

Before that, she held a flickering flame in her palm and smiled.

After it all was done, she would swear to never firebend again. She would swear that she was _not_ the Avatar.

Raava would not be reached for, nor acknowledged, for many years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an attempt to redo 'Lost and Found' on fanfiction.net, which can be found on my firemakesmesmile account  
> https://www.fanfiction.net/u/1937619/Fire-Makes-Me-Smile  
> ^whoop there it is  
> This is an AU, a sort of ‘What if’. I’ve always wondered how the Avatar spirit chooses who will be the next Avatar, if they’re selective about the way the kid’s family lives or if it’s about personality or if they just sort of throw it to whoever is born in the next nation the moment the Avatar dies. So I started thinking, what if someone who came from a less than savory lifestyle like, say, a criminal, ever became the Avatar? So, I decided to write this fic about Korra living a different life than the canon world to explore this possibility.  
> basically it's an old fic I dropped for personal reasons and I'm cleaning it up and cutting it down. The original is longer (like, a lot longer. Like, why did I even do that. Like, so much useless filler) and if you want to read it I'll be leaving it on the above fanfiction account.  
> I want to get this thing DONE. I have had a bulletin board for years now covered in plots and subplots and secrets and sexytimes and betrayals and insanity and YOU CAN'T MAKE ME THROW IT AWAY. So im doing this. Probably. Hopefully. Expect random extremely long hiatus' in January because stupid exams and maybe all of spring break because forest firesand idk how college is gonna go next year but I'm scared and shall try to do what I can before that...  
> ANYWHO KORRA GANGSTER FIC HERE WE GO BITCHES


	2. Full Moon Monsoons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Years have passed.  
> #thuglife  
> Korra has migraines

Years ago, when Korra’s elderly teacher had given her one of her first lessons in water bending, he’d had breakable-looking wrists and fingers that shook with arthritis. But he had never trembled as he taught her the movements she passed through now, his joints strong and confident as he flowed from a crouch to a strike in an instant, smooth as a stream between rocks.

The bowl of water at her feet stirred, its contents rippling as she focused her mind on it, energy flowing from the movements of her body and into the water. It smoothed its way out of the bowl, slithering through the air like a crystal snake as she moved her feet and her arms, the energy in her belly twisting into a beckon to come closer. The water obeyed.

It moved with her. Shifting as she shifted. Moving to circle around her shoulders as she cut her arms smoothly through the air. Gathering at her fingertips as she reached for it. Freezing to ice as she let the energy in her hands tighten coldly.

Korra twisted suddenly, striking her hands in the direction of the hole-ridden board on the other side of the room. The pieces of ice flew from her fingers, fast as knives, the shards embedding themselves deeply into the wood.

There was a slow clap from behind her.

Korra ignored it, concentrating on reaching out to melt the ice and bring it back to her side. She let it coil back into the bowl at her feet.

"Well," Aisu said, leaning against the door frame, grinning, "That was a lovely display of basics."

Korra made a rude gesture in her direction, wiping the sweat off her mouth with the back of her hand.

Aisu laughed, unwrapping the white strips of fabric from her hands as she straightened up. She must have been training in the probending room, giving the punching bag there a good beating for an hour or two. Normally Korra would have joined her, eventually moving to trade blows with her (both with and without bending water at each other), but today she had a headache and had wanted something slower and more familiar.

"Did Yakuna call?" Korra asked, reaching back and untying her wolftail with a quick tug. Her hair fell around her face, the dark brown strands sticking to the sweat on the back of her neck.

Aisu shook her head, eyes following the line of Korra’s neck appreciatively. She was a sharp sort of girl, built tall and lean with surprising strength. Her blue eyes cut above her cheekbones at sharp angles, managing to look simultaneously mischievous and dangerous.

"Nah," Aisu said, "Usual Red Monsoon business. It's just about time we did our rounds. Hotman Avenue today. Easy stuff."

Korra nodded, glancing out the window. The sun was low in the sky, Air Temple Island silhouetted against the orange glare of the ocean.

"Alright," she said, running a hand through her sweat-soaked hair, "Just let me grab a shower."

"Shower?" Aisu said, her eyes widening, "but I like you better all sweaty. It's sexy."

"Fuck off," Korra laughed. She turned away, headed for the locker room as Aisu sputtered in fake offense.

.o.O.o.

Korra's gloved fingers trailed along the seam in her water pouch, back and forth as the man’s babbling faded into white noise to her ears. Aisu didn’t seem to be faring much better, studying a worn Earth Kingdom wall hanging with an utterly bored expression. Her long, tight braids had fallen from behind her ear, blocking her face like a heavy curtain. The blue and white beads at their ends clicked together noisily with her every movement.

They both knew the gist of what was being said; they’d already heard it a thousand times. First was always the (false) confusion, as if the darting-eyed man had no idea what they were doing there. As if he hadn’t known the moment he'd heard a knock on his door. As if they hadn't _repeatedly_ warned him that this was coming. Korra didn't even need to look at his face to see that he was starting to panic. Fear practically rolled off him in waves, even as a cheerful smile stretched acro ss his face.

Korra chewed on the inside of her cheek as the pleasantries were thrown at them, exchanging a bored look with Aisu.

_What are you doing all the way out here?_

_Is there something you needed?_

_I wasn't expecting visitors._

That last one was the biggest lie of them all. It was obvious that he didn't have the money that they were there for, and it was obvious that he had been expecting them. Korra could see it in the braid he had his long hair up in, the one that echoed Water Tribe styles in a half-assed attempt at flattery. Once the man realized that there was no point in pretending, he quickly turned to the compliments.

_Oh, what lovely blue eyes you have._

_You two are such tireless workers; you should get breaks more often._

_Is that a new vest? It's very…blue. And nice! Very nice._

This time, Aisu had been the one that had stopped the man's compliments short and asked the golden question: _“Do you have our money?”_ They usually took turns asking, although Korra could have sworn that this was Aisu's third turn in a row. She didn't find that she cared all that much. Korra would let her have her fun; she just wished the man's excuses didn't have to come next. That was always the most painful part to listen to.

_Oh, yes, um, the money. Well you see… I, uh, I'll have it next week for sure._

_My wife had an accident at the factory, and she's unable to work right now you see._

_Business has been a little slow._

Korra looked to the ceiling, resisting the urge to rub her aching temples. The guy was almost in tears. There was no point in dragging it out. She shouldered past him, Aisu close behind, ignoring the sound of the Earth Kingdom hanging getting pulled off the wall and the man's strangled objections. She stopped in the middle of the tiny one-room apartment. The man quickly fell silent, shrinking against the wall.

She turned her head slightly, glancing at the small boy with wide brown eyes and a dimple in his brow huddled next to a woman with a heavily bandaged head and arm. The woman had a faraway look in her eyes, as if she was seeing the Red Monsoons in her home but wasn't processing the information. Korra stared at them for a moment longer, eyes lingering over the boy before she turned back towards the man standing by the door. Aisu folded the hanging over her arm with a hard scowl, but Korra could see the barely-there upturn of her lips; a smile. Aisu mouthed the word _pathetic_ before clearing of her throat.

"Alright then," Aisu snapped, glaring down at the man, "If you can't give us the yuans we need, then you'll have to pay us some other way." Her eyes scanned over the room. There wasn't much to look at, with the apartment's bare walls and worn furniture. There wasn't even a bed, just an old koala sheep wool blanket spread out on the floor with a few pillows.

Aisu glanced at the small boy in the corner. Her mouth curled gleefully.

"How about the little one? He looks like he could fetch a good price," Aisu said, drumming her fingers against her own water pouch as she approached the mother and son. The child cowered further into his blank mother's side, "I bet we could find some rich fire-noble who'd buy up a pretty thing like him in an instant."

The man made a choking noise, taking a step forward with a hand half-raised, but hesitated. His wide brown eyes flickered between Korra and Aisu's faces nervously, too scared to make eye contact for too long. Korra rolled her eyes.

"Lay off, Aisu," she said quietly.

Aisu smiled, stretching her arm out to gently brush the boy's face with her fingertips. He flinched away from her touch.

"I suppose," Aisu allowed. She stood up and turned towards the man, "We won't be taking people as payment today, sir. Not unless you decide to sell him to us. I wasn't joking when I said he could go for a good price."

"O-oh," the man stammered, flushing with relief, "Then I…No. No I won't—no."

Aisu nodded once, ignoring the man's fidgeting, and jerked her chin towards Korra.

"How much do you think this is worth?” she asked, tossing the wall hanging to Korra. Korra caught it one-handed, giving it a quick once over. She shrugged.

“Eh,” said Korra, feeling the corner between her fingers, “Hardly worth burning, honestly.”

Aisu didn’t respond, already rifling through drawers. Korra approached the old workbench in the corner, throwing the hanging over her shoulder. She ghosted a finger over the worn wood of the desk, the surface covered in deep nicks from years of harsh use. The first drawer Korra tried was locked.

She popped the lid of her water pouch open with her thumb

A moment later the lock clattered to the ground, still attached to a good chunk of the desk. Korra yanked the butchered drawer open, revealing several fine tools lined up neatly. Behind them was a coil of jewelry grade wire that shone with a golden gleam in the dim apartment. Korra pulled the coil loose, holding it out for the man to see.

"Is this gold?" she asked flatly. The man shook his head.

"No," he squeaked.

Korra shrugged, tossing the wire into her bag (quickly followed by the tools; maybe they could sell them in the art district). None of the other drawers were locked, but they held boring things like papers, pens, and several old notebooks. She pulled out one book and flipped through the pages, but it was all written in some kind of older script that was reminiscent of Earth Kingdom, so she replaced it without much inspection. When she had pocketed a few more items that some Blue Lanterns might be able to sell to stupid tourists, she turned back to Aisu.

"Come on," said Korra, "We'll run this by Paper Fan, see how much he thinks it will cover."

Aisu glanced up, several slightly less threadbare pieces of clothing hanging off her shoulder. When Korra looked back at the family, the man had joined his wife and child, standing in front of them with arms slightly spread. His hands trembled with fear, looking for all the world like he would crumble under his own weight at any moment. Korra swallowed, herding Aisu towards the door. Aisu paused in the doorway and looked back, speaking one more time.

"We're going to take these and mark down how much it covers your family's debt," she drawled, "Someone will come later this week to let you know how much you still owe. And you'd better be prepared to pay it then. I don't care how you get the money. Just have it."

Korra began to walk forward again, ready to leave, but was stopped by Aisu's hand on her shoulder.

"Wait up, hon. Aren't you forgetting something?"

Korra scoffed. In one swift moment, she opened her water pouch and sent a shard of ice hurtling towards the family. The man screamed when the ice embedded itself into the wall an inch from his head, vibrating in the plaster. Korra straightened her vest with a sharp flick, glaring over at Aisu.

" _Now_ we’re leaving. Let's go."

Aisu pouted, but trotted after Korra through the door obediently. She slammed it shut behind them, leaving the man to stare at the ice spear in disbelief.

.o.O.o.

After a few moments of silence, he reached out a trembling hand and tapped the ice with his finger. It shattered on contact.

.o.O.o.

Korra silenced the landowner's call of farewell with a withering glare before it was all the way out of his mouth, throwing the front door of the building open and walking out into the streets with her shoulders hunched. The sky was overcast (it was _always_ overcast), and today a heavy misting of rain had come with the clouds, giving her leather vest a slightly wet sheen and making the sleeves of her white blouse stick to her skin, an uncomfortably moist feeling.

She could hear Aisu following close behind her, but Korra ignored her. She slammed into the passenger seat of their satomobile, bending the rain water off her vest with a flick of her wrist as Aisu took the seat behind the wheel. They both closed their doors at the same moment with a _bang_.

Korra's face was pressed against the cool glass of the window by the time Aisu turned the key and the engine rumbled to life. Her eyes drooped, half lidded, as she felt the soft tremble of the vehicle run through the glass and into her cheekbone. It soothed the pounding pain that had started to echo in her skull, the vibration almost drowning out the screaming behind her temples.

_An Earth Kingdom mother, clutching a new born baby to her chest with a smile that played across her mouth as she looked to her husband, her terribly thin husband who had clearly been sacrificing meals so that she could eat._

" _I know what I want to name our baby now. Hope."_

"You okay?" Aisu asked as she shifted the gear. Korra cracked open an eye and grunted a half-hearted yes as her headache calmed slightly.

"I'll be better when the full moon's over," she muttered, peeling her cheek off the window and leaning back in her seat with closed eyes, massaging her temples, "Yakuna's been working us like dogs this month. I feel like my head's about to explode."

As members of Red Knife Branch Eight, Aisu and Korra were in a section of the Red Monsoons often nicknamed 'Yakuna's Sharpest Knives'. Branch Eight was made up of the most talented fighters in the Triad, singled out from training when they were still Blue Lantern initiates because they were the best benders in the bunch. Korra had made the ranks two years ago when she had been fifteen, the youngest member of branch eight to date. Aisu had only made it more recently, last year, not quite young enough to declare prodigy status at seventeen. Branch eight was perhaps most famous among Republic City's underworld for their monthly work during the full moon, when they brought out their most powerful weapons as waterbenders.

In the underworld, the full moon had been nicknamed the Blood Moon because of it.

Aisu tried, and failed, to stifle a yawn as they pulled out of their parking spot and started down the street.

"I hear ya," she said tiredly, scratching the back of her head, "She's always expecting us to work both our day and night shifts at the full moon, but _usually_ we get a day or two off to rest. I don't think I've slept longer than a few power naps in two days."

Korra cracked an eye open and glanced at her.

"Are you sure you're okay to drive?"

Aisu frowned, but didn't look away from the road

"What do you mean? I'm driving, aren't I?"

"I just don't want to die in a satomobile crash today, okay?"

"Alright. Not swerving into the river as we speak." Despite her words, the vehicle swerved dangerously for a moment.

Korra breathed a laugh and turned her head so she could watch the district disappear, their sleek black satomobile moving downhill and back towards Yue Bay. These parts were the furthest inland of all the Red Monsoon's territory, and were mostly only kept that way because none of the other Triads cared enough about it to try and take it from them. Their true power was near the shore, where they had an entire ocean of artillery at their disposal.

There were definitely some disadvantages to the element water, its use limited to how much you can carry on your person and on how much you can glean from your surroundings, even if during the full moon waterbenders reigned supreme.

"We need a night out," Aisu announced as they paused at a stoplight, "Clearly all this extra work we've been doing has been getting to your head in all the wrong ways. Next week, when the full moon's not full enough to keep up this bullshit. I'll ask Kanshu for time off, we'll hit the Chai Tiger, and go find us some ass. What do you say?"

Korra leaned back in her seat, smiling at Aisu fondly.

"You know what? I think a night off is exactly what I need."


	3. The Blood Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roommates are difficult.  
> The real work of the Red Monsoons begins.  
> Korra is conflicted.  
> The Moon Flower

Korra's feet hammered the stone as she ran, the sound of her boots taking two or three steps at a time echoing off the stairwell's walls. Her legs burned as she grabbed the railing and whipped around another landing, starting up another flight with barely a glance at the wooden door with a brass _12_ nailed into it. Up two more flights and—

Her hand slapped against the wood, right under the shiny _13._

"I win!" she yelled, spinning around to gloat her victory. The stairs behind her were empty, painted white and silent, "Aisu?"

There was a half-hearted grunt of an answer, much farther than she would have expected. Leaning over the railing, Korra gazed all the way down to ground level. About eight landings down a brown hand was gripping the railing, slowly making their way up the stairs. A laugh bubbled up from Korra's mouth.

"Hey!" Aisu called up at her, "Don't make fun! We can't all be superhuman freaks like you."

"You agreed to race me."

There was the sound of heavy footsteps as Aisu pulled herself up a few more steps.

"And then I gave up two thirds of the way."

"What floor did you stop at?"

"Eight. Why?"

"There are thirteen floors. That's not even two thirds."

Aisu laughed humorously, the sound loud and echoing.

"Don't give me that bullshit. There are only twelve floors. Just because the crazy landowner is too superstitious to stick a four anywhere doesn't mean there are any more floors than twelve."

"So you _did_ make it two thirds?"

"Exactly."

Korra snorted and pushed away from the railing.

"Ya, well when you finish dragging yourself up to the apartment, let me know how proud of yourself you are."

"And that's another thing. The number on our door says 41. But that's just because there's no apartment 4! We should live in 42!"

"No one cares Aisu."

" _I_  care!"

Korra let the sound of Aisu’s voice drop from her attention, the words ignored as she launched into an all-out rant about how the landowner's fear of four was "irrational and stupid". Korra opened their floor's door with a jangle of keys and made her way down the hall towards her and Aisu's shared apartment, the brownish-white of the carpet softening the sound of her steps.

Shouldering her way inside, she dumped her vest into the front closet without hanging it up, wandering down the entryway and through their living room. In true Red Monsoon fashion, the décor was mostly Water Tribe, from the blue painted walls and brown leather furniture to the silvery wooden counter of the kitchenette in the back corner. There were some untraditional touches to the apartment as well, the coffee table made of worked iron and the glass-topped hutch in the corner where the radio sat, as well as several red silk banners that Aisu had pinned up one weekend after declaring that all the blue was giving her a headache.

Korra had just finished unbuttoning her white dress shirt when Aisu opened the door. Aisu's hands immediately flew up to cover her eyes.

"Have you no modesty woman! Change in your room for once, will you?"

Korra rolled her eyes, shrugging out of the shirt and folding it over her arm.

"I have an undershirt on."

"It's just the _principal_ of it. Most people find it unpleasant when they walk in to find their roommate undressing in the living room, you know."

Korra knew. She knew it all too well, and was reminded on a daily basis when Aisu started to strip down "because this is my home and I can do what I want, dammit". Aisu had been that way ever since she was assigned to Korra as her roommate two years ago, when Korra was just starting as a Red Knife and Aisu had been a promising Blue Lantern awaiting initiation. But none the less, Korra ducked into her room to finish changing. She pulled on something more practical for working, and a few minutes later she walked back into the sitting room wearing darker, more movable clothing, re-gathering her hair into a wolftail.

A half-dressed Aisu was flipping through some papers on the coffee table. Korra grabbed her boots and sat on the couch next to her, beginning to lace them up.

"So what are we doing tonight?" Korra asked, nodding at the papers without commenting on the fact that Aisu only had one leg in her pants.

"We're headed to that area in the Otter Trail borough that the Agni Kais captured two weeks ago. Yakuna was terribly fond of it, apparently."

"Really?" Korra said, leaning over to read the top paper, "I was expecting her to send us a little further into Agni Kai territory, hit them where it hurts or something. She doesn't usually send us for reclaiming territory during the full moon."

Aisu shrugged, placing the paper back on the table so she could finish pulling on her dark blue sweater.

"Well, Otter Trail is where a whole bunch of Water Tribe tall hats live. The Red Monsoons get a good chunk of cash coming out of there on a regular basis. It's probably worth more than some backwater Agni Kai neighbourhood that we'll lose at the first new moon."

"Ya. I guess so. How many of Branch Eight are going to be there?"

"Everyone except Kilee, Irik, Huka, Naki, and Kalir. They're going to be at the Scarlet Tear for some extra security. Some rich guy expecting an assassination attempt gave a fortune and his firstborn child for the Red Monsoon's protection tonight. Oh, get this. Yakuna asked for you to _specifically_ take Naga to Otter Trail. I think she wants us to go for the  _intimidation_ tactic," Aisu grinned in excitement, "Maybe I should get out the war paint or something."

"Oh, definitely," Korra said sarcastically, "and maybe I should bathe Naga in the blood of our enemies, just to  _intimidate_ them all the more."

Aisu laughed and stood up, twisting her braids into a bun at the base of her neck. Her white underwear contrasted sharply with her dark skin.

"Intimidation for you should be easy. All you have to do is leave your arms bare. Show them just how tough Yakuna's Sharpest Knife really is!"

Korra rolled her eyes, picking at the fabric of her gloves self-consciously.

"I'm not 'Yakuna's Sharpest Knife'."

"Debatable. But what  _isn't_ debatable is that scars are definitely intimidating," She reached out and grabbed Korra's right wrist, pulling to towards her and yanking on the glove, "Just show them off for tonight. Please?"

Korra pouted and tried to yank her arm away. When Aisu didn't release her immediately she scowled and lashed out, landing a hit in Aisu's side that sent her stumbling, breath knocked from her as she landed hard on the couch. Korra pulled her arm away with a grimace.

"I think I can manage to be intimidating without scars." Korra said, wiggling her fingers tauntingly.

"Ow," Aisu retorted eloquently. Korra held back a laugh, glancing at the clock as she got to her feet.

"Come on Aisu," Korra called on her way out the door, pulling on her dark jacket, "We need to make it to Bexley before sundown if we're going to get Naga and meet up with the others on time. Where's the meeting spot?"

"Platypus Bear Street."

"Then we  _really_ need to leave now. Hurry up."

Korra laughed when she heard Aisu trip on her half-on pant leg.

.o.O.o.

Korra was pressed into the alleyway tightly, her back leaning against the great mass of fur that was Naga. She rested her hands on the giant water pouch that was attached to her polar bear dog's saddle.

Back when she was still a Blue Lantern, some of the other kids had dared her to break into Avatar Aang Zoo. She had accepted the challenge, taking it one step further and stealing the new baby polar bear dog from the Water Tribe exhibit. Kasen, the Blue Lanterns’ “minder”, had thought it was hilarious; Yukuna found it less so. But she was allowed to keep Naga all the same, and was even given an old, unused warehouse in the Bexley borough to house her in.

Tonight, Korra's instructions were simple enough; some of her teammates from the Red Knives Branch Eight would herd the Agni Kais guarding the outer edges of the territory to her, Aisu, and several others for an ambush.

Naga shifted her stance, pushing her wet nose into the back of Korra's neck. Korra flinched slightly at the moist coldness, biting her lip to hold back a squeak of surprise. She had been fiddling with her pendant, a hallow red crescent moon that rested just below the neckline of her shirt, sure to keep it over the fabric, and hadn't expected a nose to interrupt her. Most of the time she kept her rank pendant tucked against her skin, out of sight, but tonight they wanted the Agni Kais to know exactly who was attacking them.

It was the blood moon. There would be blood.

A piercing whistle cut through the air, coming from Otter Trail and echoing through the streets. Korra straightened up and peered out the mouth of the alley. For a moment there was nothing, but when a violent flash of fire burst from somewhere around the corner she stepped back to Naga's side. They were closer than she'd thought.

"Alright Naga," she whispered, throwing a leg over Naga's roughly made saddle and pulling herself straight, "Ready to get this show on the road?"

Naga whined quietly in answer, her tail gently whipping back and forth. Korra laughed and tugged on her gloves, sure that there was no gap of skin between them and her jacket's sleeves. The white fabric reflected some of the light coming from the electric street lamps, eerily glowing in contrast to her dark attire.

"Then let's have us a nice loud roar, huh?"

She felt the polar bear dog coil beneath her. She held her breath for an instant, until a stream of fire burst from just in front of the alley.

"Now girl."

Naga sprang forward, a roar tearing up from her great chest and through her bared teeth. The Agni Kais, about eight of them ranging from late teens to mid-twenties in age, stopped short at the sight, eyes going wide and the fires they held flaring larger. Korra kept her face carefully blank, looking down at them and leaning forward on Naga languidly.

"Hmm," she said lazily, "That's strange. What are a couple of rats doing in Red Monsoon territory? Why, it must be an infestation! I'd better clear them all out."

She could hear the rest of the Red Knives pushing in closer, about a dozen of the Eighth Branch, waterbenders under the full moon. The Agni Kais only now seemed to be realizing just how outnumbered and outgunned they were. They retreated in on themselves. Korra saw one girl incline her head and whisper something to the others. For an instant they pressed closer together, shoulders touching, and then sprang forward, a good number going for what appeared to be the greatest threat: Korra.

Her hands darted out, fingers plucking the air in jerky, complicated motions. The three closest Agni Kais suddenly stopped; gasping as their fires flickered out and their muscles began to seize. She raised her hands, the firebenders rising into the air with their movement. One of the Agni Kais let out a pathetic sob and her fingers faltered.

_Enemy_. She reminded herself as she tightened her hands into tense fists. She watched the one who had cried out, a boy of at least eighteen with a tattoo of a dragon creeping up his neck, as his eyes bulged and his mouth flapped, useless and silent. And then, with a faint crackling noise, none of them moved.

She bent away their bodies, piling them into the alleyway she had been hiding in moments before.

With a scream of fury, two more ran towards her, one holding a knife in her trembling hand. With a growl she reached out and grabbed hold of the girl's blood, throwing her into the other Agni Kai with her arm holding the knife extended. He was down before the girl had a chance to scream, and before she could stop her own hand the knife had been plunged into her chest.

Korra let her drop and stared at the pair for a moment before turning to see the other three Agni Kais fall under the hands of the Red Knives. Her hands tightened on Naga's reigns as she watched Aisu walk out into the open, a coating of water covering her hands like resting weapons. She jerked her head towards the bodies.

"Clean up." She said shortly to several Knives, "When you hear the signal I want you to move further into the territory. There are still the ones further in that need to be taken care of. Korra," Aisu pointed straight at her, "I want your beast there leading a few minutes before everyone else, give the ash squatters something to aim at. Get rid of them if you can."

Korra nodded once, jerking Naga towards Otter Trail. The other Knives parted to let her pass, already carrying the bodies towards the bay where an unmarked truck waited to be driven out to the ocean.

"Run girl." Korra whispered. Naga began to speed up, the sound of her giant paws pounding on the pavement echoing through the streets. She was well into Otter Trail now, the houses becoming more extravagant with each passing meter and the front yards getting more spacious as the owners got wealthier and wealthier. She gently slowed down, eyes scanning the shadows of well-maintained trees and shrubs for a sign of hidden Agni Kais.

She heard a quiet rustle behind her and barely spun around in time to deflect the flash of fire. A curtain of steam rose as the water hit the flames, obscuring her vision. She cursed under her breath and didn't wait for it to clear before moving.

Jerking her hands harshly, she grabbed for the nearby presence of water she could feel, and immediately there was a choking sound and the dull thump of a body hitting the pavement. The steam cleared, revealing fifteen or so Agni Kais, red scarves tied around their wrists and amber eyes staring at the fallen comrade in disbelief. Korra grinned widely when they turned to stare at her.

She took a deep breath, the strength of the full moon beating down on her, and moved her arms. Her reach extended all the way to the farthest members of their group. She could feel the push and pull of their bodies' water, moving in sync with their heartbeats. It echoed in her skull.

_Thud_

Push

_Thump_

Pull

_Thud_

Push

_Thump_

Pull

She spread her arms and with a single movement plucked up the entire group, lifting them so their feet dangled a few inches off the ground. Her control wasn't perfect, the Agni Kais' veins and arteries tightening too close to this muscle group and yanking this limb too far to the right, but it did its work. They couldn't move and soon, they would die.

(This is what Red Knives did.

They fought. They defended. They frightened. They killed.

They had proven their loyalty to the family, and they had been accepted as members.

And now there was no going back.)

She smiled and slowly closed her fists, fingernails digging into her palms as she felt the outline of the Agni Kais' bodies within her senses. She was one of Yakuna's Sharpest Knives. A prodigy among prodigies.

"Like rotten fruit," she sang happily, loud enough for them all to hear, "That's what the flesh and blood of rats is like. Like paper thin skin, soft enough to break with a fingernail, encasing flesh, watery flesh." She spread her fingers suddenly, the water within their bodies straining against their veins. Trying to reach her. One boy tried to cry out, but his mouth couldn't form a sound. A painful shiver ran down her arms and she forced a laugh, "I wonder," she continued, "What would happen to the fruit if the water were to try to escape the skin. How long could that pathetically weak fruit hold out before it _pops_?"

She sounded hysterical. Korra could hear herself, see herself moving her arms as if to try and test the theory she had voiced. But it was just an act to scare them with.

(An  _act._ )

She swallowed hard, letting the maniacal grin drop from her face. She didn't want their deaths gruesome, that much, at least, she knew for sure. Their heartbeats pounded loudly to her senses, and just a little deeper she could feel their hearts. It would be a simple matter of a little tweak, force their hearts to make a mistake or two. A fatal mistake or two.

She met the eyes of one of the Agni Kais, a girl with wide brown eyes and black hair twisted back into a braid. Korra blinked and the girl's face changed into something else. A face that Korra's heart ached for in longing, a girl named Ta Min, and yet she was sure she had never seen it before. Her hold loosened slightly and Ta Min's face vanished. It was the same Agni Kai as before, ragged breath chocking on its way through her throat. Korra stared for just a moment longer, and then her hands snapped into fists.

None of them made a sound as they died.

.o.O.o.

Korra was lounging on Naga's back in the shade of a great hedge that sat on the edge of a mansion's property, chewing on the end of an unlit cigarette when Aisu and the others caught up, the body truck in tow.

Aisu cut through the others, elbowing Kyra out of the way as her slanted eyes traced over the bodies lying on the pavement.

"You okay?" she asked, reaching out a hand to rest gently on Naga's head.

Korra couldn't look her in the eye as she grunted in affirmation. There was a tense silence as Korra took the cigarette from her mouth and tucked it behind her ear.

"No big deal," Korra said, "the moon's full. They never stood a chance."

Aisu laughed, the sort of voiceless laugh that was more of a sharp exhale through her nose. The breath stirred the water of her blood, making Aisu's vague shape ripple at the edge of Korra’s bending. Indistinctly human.

_Thump_

_Thud_

Suddenly there were raised voices among the others, Kyra stepping forward with her hand twisted in the shirt collar of a boy. He couldn't have been older than fourteen, but he had a red scarf knotted around his upper arm all the same.

"Agni Kai," Kyra said quietly, her blank gaze on her feet even as her fist tightened in the shirt's fabric, "he was hiding in the shrubs."

Aisu and Korra exchanged a look.

Aisu said "Kill him"

At the exact same moment, Korra said "Let him go."

There was a tense silence.

"What?" Aisu's voice was dangerous. Korra grimaced.

"Come on, Su.  _Look_  at him. He's just a  _kid_."

"He's an Agni Kai," Aisu snapped, "What part of  _get rid of them_ do you not understand?"

Korra sat up a little straighter at her tone.

"I did  _get rid of them,_ " she through a hand towards the bodies being loaded into the truck, "Does one more really matter? We're going for intimidation. We've given a show of power, we've taken back our territory, and hell, we've even cut down their numbers. Is one kid  _really_ going to matter much?"

The Red Knives were silent, all eyes on them. The blue gazes made Korra shift in her saddle, uncomfortable. Aisu didn't even blink.

"I'll decide if it matters," she hissed, turning towards the boy with an icy blade appearing between her fingers.

Korra considered her options for all of two seconds.

On the third second, Aisu's feet were yanked out from under her by a twisting rope of water. She fell to one knee, the ice falling from between her fingers and clattering on the pavement, and before her gasp was all the way out of her mouth, Kyra had been struck across the face by a water whip and the boy was running down the street.

No one moved.

"Korra," Aisu said. That was all she said. The next moment she had gotten back to her feet, took two quick strides in Korra's direction, and slapped her across the face.

Aisu tucked a stray braid back into her bun.

"Kanshu," she said quietly, "Get these ash-for-brains down to the harbour. There's a lot, so you should go out extra far with the boat. The rest of you, go over the area and do a double clean up. I don't want to see a single speck of blood, a single hair, a single fingerprint. If I go over this area with a fine tooth comb I don't want to find it any different than it was last night. You hear me? We're not some stupid group of kiddies messing around. We're the big guys, the _Red Monsoons_. And the Red Monsoons don't leave evidence."

"Yes, Ma'am," they all murmured, awkwardly out of sync as Kanshu began to trudge back to the van. Everyone was either staring at Korra or at their feet, parting easily for Aisu as she walked through them.

Korra wrapped Naga's reigns around her hand several times, not even looking up when Kyra placed a hand on Korra's arm and whispered " _sorry_ ".

(Sorry for what? Korra almost asked).

A part of her was surprised that she had not been given the unpleasant, if not necessary, job of dumping bodies. The Red Monsoons couldn't leave any evidence, so they had to be thorough; making sure there was no way dead Agni Kais would wash into the bay, and if they did that they couldn't be identified. It was always grim work, full of teeth smashing and knives cutting fingerprints to ribbons. Aisu liked to give the duty as punishment.

Korra's lips unstuck, taking a small breath as the van's engine started up.

"You got it, _captain._ " she said to her hands.

.o.O.o.

Cleanup was easy enough. More than actual  _cleaning_ , with a bucket and a sponge and soap suds up to her elbows, it was more of ten minutes of water bent over the concrete, grass, walls, and basically every surface the fight had taken place at. Scorch marks on walls were scrubbed away (as well as possible), conspicuous puddles were swept into water pouches, and anything incriminating was collected and disposed of.

It was  _easy_ , it was  _boring_. But something that cleanup was generally  _not was_ surprising.

Yet that is the only way Korra could think of to describe this particular cleanup as she stood, the other Red Monsoons out of sight and too silent in their work to overhear, with a girl at her feet.

Her long black hair was tangled into snarls around her face and her pale skin was covered in cuts and bruises, the ones around her neck and wrist hauntingly resembling hand prints. There was blood pooling on the pavement, seeming to seep from the dark stain on her side.

Korra pushed Naga's curious muzzle away, kneeling down next to the girl with hands outstretched, but made no move to touch her.

She didn't know how to heal. Not with waterbending, anyway.

Instead, she tore off her jacket, bunching it up and pressing it hard against the place that Korra was quickly recognizing as a stab wound. The girl let out a cry of pain, a curse screeching through her gritted teeth. Her eyes fluttering open, green irises peeking through long lashes as she began to thrash. Korra had to dodge a stray arm, whistling past her ear with the force of the almost-blow.

She wasn't an Agni Kai, that much was obvious. Korra considered for a moment calling for an ambulance, or even for the other Red Monsoons, but quickly dismissed the idea on the grounds that Aisu had probably had enough of her Good Samaritan-ism for one night.

Which is how Korra ended up with a crying girl bleeding all over Naga's saddle, galloping towards the Moon Flower at a polar bear dog's full speed.

.o.O.o.

Sumak threw the door open after about a million rapid-pace knocks. She rolled her eyes when her gaze fell on Korra, who had wild hair and was out of breath, fist still raised to knock.

"Korra," Sumak sighed, leaning against the door frame, "how many times do I have to tell you: _use the front door._ The back door isn't your own personal entrance—"

"Is Renya here?" Korra interrupted. Sumak blinked.

"Uh, yes? Why?"

"Because I need a healer," Korra said, jerking her thumb behind her.

Sumak's blue eyes found the girl on Naga's back quickly. She clicked her tongue, brushing her chin-length hair out of her face.

"Oh Korra," she said, "Have you been getting in trouble again?"

"Not my fault this time," Korra said, pouting, "I just found her."

Sumak sighed again. She was all rounded edges and softness, with the plump features well known to the North, but Korra wouldn't put it past her the punch her in the face at that moment.

"Ok, bring her in," Sumak said, as if she had been considering turning them away, "It's a slow night anyways."

Korra fervently thanked her between retrieving the girl and rushing her inside, hand pressed tightly against the soaked-red cloth.

Sumak was already rolling up the blue sleeves of her shirt.

"Renya!" she shouted as she closed the door behind them, "We've got another one!"

.o.O.o.

The Moon Flower was a pub. Kind of.

During the day and well into the night, out front they served tea and simple meals and alcoholic beverages from and for all of the Nations. It wasn't particularly popular, but they had enough return customers to keep them afloat.

Not that their back-door business didn't help with that too.

In the  _back_  of the Moon Flower was a room, in which was enough surgical supplies to serve as a small hospital; scalpels, needles, bandages, setting plaster, everything they could possibly need for an emergency injury or twelve. It was an off-the-record place where people not exactly on good terms with the law went to get wounds healed and cleaned up without the metalbending police finding out. They served all of the Triads, as well as some kid gangs and other stray criminals, but the Red Monsoons didn't seem to mind. The Moon Flower was a sort of unofficial no-man's-land.

The table in the centre of the room was now occupied by the girl, still conscious in a bleary, delirious sort of way. The patient they had already had, an Earth Kingdom kid with an eye patch and a heavily bandaged shoulder, was shooed to upstairs, where there were several empty rooms that  _normal_  businesses would have rented out as apartments.

The Moon Flower used them as patient beds.

Bowls were piled on a folding ‘surgical’ table, right beside a large pot that was full of cold water, but was quickly being warmed to boiling by Ennai, the firebending owner. There were several girls crowded inside the room, milling around silently, each working and cleaning and disinfecting with practiced efficiency.

Renya marched in a moment later, her white hair pulled back messily with a yellow bandana. Her eyes barely deflected off Korra, although Korra could have sworn she saw Renya’s jaw tighten in the moment of eye contact they managed.

“Stab wound,” Ennai called out, the little flame in her hand flaring blue, “Lower left side. Close to the rib cage. If she’s lucky, it didn’t puncture anything important. The wound doesn’t smell particularly bad so I think we may be okay on that front.”

Renya grunted, throwing off her loose over shirt to expose a tank top that bared her dark-skinned arms.

“Have you cut away the fabric?”

“Aki’s working on it," Ennai said, jerking her head towards the youth of around ten who was carefully snipping the girl’s dress away from the wound. Her fingers came away crimson.

Aki stepped away a moment later and Renya pushed forward, bending a mass of water from the now-steaming pot to hold between her palms and press against the girl’s side with a glowing blue light.

The girl screamed, her back arching up off the table as she jerked away from Renya's touch.

“Sumak,” Renya said shortly, not taking her eyes off the healing water as Sumak stepped forward to cradle the girl’s head between her hands.

She whispered comforting words, stroking the girl’s hair gently. The girl calmed slightly, though her breath still came in and out of her chest in a flurry of panic. Her wide green eyes managed to focus on Sumak's face, bleary and shining.

"It hurts." She said, her voice crackling. Sumak nodded sympathetically, wiping away the girl's tears with a gentle thumb.

"I know sweetheart," she said, "I know. We're doing everything we can. I just need you to look at me. Okay? What's your name?"

But the girl was shaking her head, her breath coming in sharp gasps.

"No," she said, her voice rising to a scream, "We did nothing wrong. I won't tell you. We did nothing wrong.  _We did nothing wrong_!" She lashed out; her arm hitting Sumak's shoulder in an open-handed strike. The paper covering the table crackled as she tried to pull away from Renya, a sheen of sweat covering her face as she repeated that 'we did nothing wrong', over and over, volume rising and falling with a gasping voice.

Sumak nursed her shoulder, glancing up at Ennai.

"Sorry," Sumak said quietly, dodging another panicked strike the girl threw at her, "She's delirious. Should I put her out?"

Ennai glanced at Renya and sighed, tucking a black strand of hair behind her ear.

"Yes," she said, "That's probably best."

Sumak nodded. She coiled up like a viper rat, elbow pulling back behind her shoulder, and with a flash of movement, her hand jabbed forward and struck the girl's neck sharply. With one last strangled sob, the girl collapsed back on the table, unconscious.

Korra's jaw dropped.

“What did you just—,”

“I need new water,” Renya interrupted, “Ennai?”

“Ready when you are,” Ennai said, rushing forward to kneel at Renya’s side. She was holding crisp white bandages in her hands.

"One," Ennai began slowly, "Two" she was nearly touching Renya's hands with the white gauze, "Three!"

In an instant Renya had pulled back her healing water, now turned a sickly orange-red colour with the absence of a healing glow, and Ennai pressed the bandages tightly to the wound in the girl's side. A small red stain quickly began to spread across the crisp white bandages.

One of the waterbender girls took the dirty water from Renya while another girl quickly passed off clean water to her. Ennai and Renya's eyes met, and by some unseen cue they both moved, Ennai pulling back and Renya pushing forward.

As the glow started up again, Korra turned to Sumak with wide eyes.

“What did you—,”

“I’ll tell you later,” Sumak waved off, “We’re  _busy,_ hon. The girl’s the priority here.”

“Ah,” Korra said, scratching the back of her head, “Well then, should I—?”

The bloody bandages in Ennai’s hands burst into flames, making Korra jump. She shook her hands clean of the ash, looking at Korra with apologetic eyes as gold as honey.

“We’re fine, Korra,” Ennai said, “Just go into the shop. Get a drink. Talk to Zin; she likes you.”

Korra hardly felt Sumak pushing her out of the room, and only registered that she was in the hallway when the door was closed in her face.

.o.O.o.

"I found her last night. Or earlier this morning, I guess," Korra explained to her tea later, Sumak and Renya on either side of her. Ennai sat across the table, nursing something a little stronger than tea, "She was collapsed on the side of the street, bleeding. So I just…brought her back here.”

“Huh,” Sumak said dryly, “What a coincidence.”

Korra wanted to kick her under the table, but refrained.

"Any idea what happened to her?" Korra asked, actually glancing up as she swirled the cold tea in her cup. The girl had been stabilized, or at least wasn't in any immediate danger of bleeding to death anymore, and remained in the surgery room as some girls watched over her while others cleaned up the gore she'd left behind. The rest of the staff had long gone home, the Moon Flower closed for the night.

They were the last four to remain, their table lit by a candle.

"Well," Ennai said slowly, her gold eyes narrowing at the bottle between her hands, "She was attacked by a waterbender, that much was clear from her injuries. She woke up again a little bit after you left, still delirious but a little more aware of her surroundings. Her reaction to Renya was pretty severe. Took one look at her eyes and just started screaming and thrashing. Same with all of the Water Tribe girls that were helping. We had to keep her knocked out to just so she wouldn't attack them,” she rubbed her eye, "I'm actually surprised anyone got advantage of that girl at all. Even with her injuries, all of us together couldn't hold her down until Sumak gave her little 'touch of living death'. He must have been some bender,"

Sumak spoke up from the side, her eyes skipping over Korra almost shyly, “Or  _she_  must have been.”

Korra elected to ignore that.

Sumak took a bite out of the loaf of bread in her hand, crumbs tumbling from her lips and onto the table. Korra tried to give her a stern look, but Sumak just rolled her eyes and took another large bite out of her bread.

"She kept muttering things in a weird language," she said through her mouthful, "and Ennai was saying that it sounded sort of like Fire Nation dialect. Which is strange considering her eyes are pretty distinctly Earth Kingdom. If she's mixed blood it wouldn't surprise me if it was a Nations-based attack. A lot of people don't really like the idea of crossing the elements."

"We can't be sure of that though," Ennai said, "She could be adopted into a Fire Nation family, or live in a Fire Nation area of the city. We don't really know all that much about her. It seems whoever attacked her made a point to strip her of any identification, and she can't tell us her name just yet. Renya said that there’s probably some sort of mild hallucinogenic drug in her system.”

Renya grunted, shrugging with one shoulder. Her loose blue shirt was back on, draping over her like a cloak.

“Well, I’m no expert, but generally shock doesn’t account for that level of delirium. I think.”

Sumak was nodding to herself.

“It seemed a lot like a premeditated sort of attack. We don’t think she was raped, at the very least, which is kind of nice.”

Korra felt both Ennai and Renya flinch as Sumak shoved the rest of the bread into her mouth.

There was a tense silence.

“Uh, by the way!" Korra brought up quickly, turning towards Sumak, “What was that, uh,” how did Ennai describe it? “‘Touch of death’?”

Sumak swallowed her mouthful, smiling sweetly in Korra’s direction.

“Oh, that? Just something my neighbour taught me when I was a little girl. Self-defense for nonbenders, that sort of thing. It's at least helpful when we can’t get our hands on anaesthetic.”

Renya grunted in agreement. Ennai threw her head back, downing what was left in the brown bottle, and slammed it back down on the table with a belch.

"Well!" she said, too loud for the silent room, "I think it's about time we went to sleep," Sumak looked like she was going to argue, but Ennai was too quick, standing and offering Korra a too-wide smile, "Always nice to see you, Korra! Although we prefer it if you don't come with medical emergencies  _every_ time."

"No kidding," Sumak muttered.

"But," Ennai continued, "The night is so old that it's very nearly dawn. So you," she nodded at Korra with a press of lips that was maybe supposed to be a smile, "need to go home. And you two," she looked at Sumak, Renya smiling quietly at Sumak's offended scoff, "are going upstairs and sleeping in the employee room."

With that, Ennai was gone, a swish of red skirts and a slightly crooked path accentuating her journey to the door that lead to the back.

Korra stared into her tea in the silence that followed Ennai's exit, pushing away from the table so suddenly that Sumak jumped in surprise.

“Thank you,” Korra said, getting to her feet and bowing her head slightly, “For everything. Sorry for the trouble, but I need to get back home.”

"Wow Korra," Sumak said, "I can't believe you're listening to Ennai."

Renya rolled her eyes, standing to place a hand on Korra's arm.

"Oh, be quiet Sumak, Korra's just trying to be civil. Right Korra?"

Korra just looked away.

"Something like that."

Renya sighed.

"I know she's a firebender, but the only reason we  _have_ a hospital is because of Ennai."

"Well," Korra said with a small smile, "and because of you. Somehow I don't think she'd be selling back-door criminal health care as well if she didn't have a waterbender healer. She's more like a landlady."

Renya pouted, reaching up to tap Korra's cheek twice.

"Ennai," she said firmly, "Is a friend. She set your leg when you broke it in three places, she stitched up that cut on your arm, and she went out of her way to make a balm for you when you first came to us with all those burns. And she did it all through your insults and flinches."

"I don't know why you bother," Sumak said resting her chin on a fist, "She's a gangster. She's a  _racist_ gangster. Hating firebenders is a way of life for people like her."

Korra reached out a hand to whack the side of Sumak's head without looking. Sumak dodged, wrinkling her nose at Korra with a grin. Korra stuck out her tongue in response. As usual, Renya was the one to interrupt their fight before they had a chance to really start.

"Come back any time,” Renya said sternly, “You're welcome here. You should get back to your roommate before she starts to worry. Aisu is such a nice girl."

Sumak and Korra both gave Renya a strange look.


	4. Fire Fever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Korra is bothered by the girl at the Moon Flower.  
> Aisu and Korra make up. Sort of?

There was something about the way the jazz fizzled out of the radio that made Korra more agitated, her fists pounding into the fabric of the punching bag a little more violently with every beat of the music.

The gym was mostly empty, probably because it was so early in the morning. There were some people working with the free weights in the corner, a couple of others doing squats in the middle of the floor, and one other guy attacking the punching bag next to hers with quick, practiced strikes. Everyone was politely ignoring each other.

Korra curved her arm back and rammed her elbow into the bag, spinning with the motion and slamming down a poorly-formed kick before it could swing back into place. The motion jarred her knee a little; the bag remained unfazed.

Korra sighed, gently placing her hand against the rough fabric, and shut her eyes, wishing she could crawl inside the bag's stuffing and just stay there for the rest of the week.

_The air temple was cold and barren, uninhabited for far too long. She ran her fingers over the stone wall, feeling the cracks that should never have had the chance to creep across the stone. A curable disease that had instead been left to fester. This was wrong._

The memory blinked away as Korra opened her eyes. The punching bag stared back at her innocently. Had she dozed off? She rolled her shoulders, flicking her fingers to try and make her blood feel less sluggish in her veins as she bounced on her toes and set up for another attack on the punching bag. Her gloved fist slapped the fabric with a sharp popping noise; the bag laughing at her efforts.

Once, back in her Blue Lantern days, a Red Knife initiate named Sikuk had attacked a young Water Tribe nonbender. Korra remembered that day, the girl's screams. Huka and Kanshu had had to keep her away. Sikuk wasn't someone anyone should get involved with, they had explained. He was the most dangerous kind of Red Monsoon. The kind that hadn't joined for family, or debt, or loyalty, or even money. Sikuk had joined for the enjoyment of the job.

Korra and Huka had found the girl the next morning.

Korra had been violently sick in the bay.

Her shoes squeaked as her punches became sharper, yet weaker as she concentrated more closely to her attacks, stealing the movements from her instincts and letting her conscious mind guide her fists where she wanted them. She let the angles of her knuckles' strikes distract her from Sikuk, and girls left broken for dead.

Of course Korra was aware that many members of her Triad did less than savoury things when they weren't working. It wasn't like she and her friends hadn't gotten up to some stuff they shouldn't have on their days off. But there was a line you should never cross. And someone had crossed that line with the girl in the Moon Flower.

And worse yet, it could have been someone she knew and trusted.

But no, she was getting ahead of herself. There was still a chance that it  _hadn't_  been a member of Branch Eight. Otter Trail was full of rich waterbenders, and Korra knew that rich people were just as likely as poor people to be bad.

But they had been there.  _She_  had been there. Faces and names flitted through her mind without permission, getting a firm rejection each time.

Not Kanshu, he was too serious about work. And there was no way Jikuok had done it, since he was completely terrified of girls. Kailan was so geared towards Water Tribe he probably wouldn't want to breathe the same air as a green-eyed girl. She and Taku used to steal apples together from the market, every Sunday after their pickpocketing rounds. Kyra and Bo and Kota and Naq and Hiryu and Due and Kinto, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

Korra yelled sharply, the note skyrocketing to a squeak on the back of her tongue as she drove her foot into the punching bag hard. Her balance buckled under her, and she fell forward into the bag, crumpling onto the floor like a discarded piece of fabric as her fingernails stiffly failed to find a grip on the canvas. The punching bag let her fall to her knees, indifferent.

However many times she went through names in her head, there wasn't a single person in branch eight she could bring herself to believe was even remotely capable of  _that_. Of being like Sikuk.

Korra felt bile rise in her throat. Another headache began to come on…

"Hey, Miss?"

There was a boy's voice. Korra slowly lifted her head, blinking slowly as she looked up. There was a hand, resting on the rough fabric. The bag bent around his light touch obediently. Her eyebrow twitched in annoyance.

"What?" Korra snapped. The boy flinched back, swiping his hand away from the bag, though the dent remained. The bag swayed slightly, whining for his touch to return. He scratched the back of his head, and Korra recognized him as the boy who had been working out on the punching bag nearby.

"I— _nothing_  really. I just—well I was  _wondering_ —" He swallowed, kneeling down in front of her, "Are you… alright?"

His eyes were a light green. Like the girl’s. She shivered, turning her face away.

"Ya," she muttered, "Fantastic."

The boy jumped to his feet as she stood, his hand half extended as if unsure whether or not he should help her. Korra ignored him, re-wrapping the Velcro on her gloves and lifting her fists. The boy took a step back, but did not leave.

She stared at the bag blankly for a moment. It stared back. Her hands lowered slowly, torn on whether to try to hit the bag into cooperation again or to let it win. Her knee was throbbing, her shoulders and wrists complaining loudly. Her eyelashes, made of lead, seemed to be dragging her eyes shut, heavier and heavier with each passing second. The punching bag grinned.

Hands were on her shoulders.

"Whoa!" the boy said. His voice raised a few decibels, "You're not gonna pass out, are you?"

"Of course not," Korra muttered, jerking her shoulders out from under his hands, "I'm just—," just…just what? What. What was she? She tried again.

"I'm just—." again she trailed off. The boy frowned, putting a hand back onto her shoulder. She didn't shake it off.

"Just?" he prompted. He sounded concerned. Korra wondered why. He didn't need to sound concerned. She could take care of herself. She was a member of branch eight, one of Yakuna's sharpest knives. A Red Monsoon. Strong. A bender.

She was the Avatar.

The boy blurred.

A new song began to play.

She was tired.

And then all at once…she was bliss.

The punching bag laughed

.o.O.o.

The girl was  _dead._

Okay, so she wasn't really  _dead_ , exactly. He could see that she was  _alive_. But when you got down to it, she wasn't much different from a dead person when she was sprawled on the ground like that, not moving and hardly breathing. Her dark, sweat-sheened skin seemed pallid against the black tile floor, making her look for all the world like a cooling corpse.

Bolin took a step away from her, glancing over his shoulder at the mostly-empty gym. No one spared a second glance at them, and one girl giggled loudly before turning her back completely. He frowned, crossing his arms in front of his chest. What was  _that_ supposed to mean?

"What happened here?"

Bolin started, turning back around to find the gym owner standing over the girl. The man's stomach strained on the buttons of his shirt as he bent over; looking down at her through sleepy, hallow eyes with pupils so big the blue could have easily been mistaken for dark brown. Bolin swallowed, trying to remember the owner's name. All he was coming up with was something like 'Dork' or “Chorkle”, but that couldn't  _possibly_  be the right name…

The man straightened up, a shiny silver nameplate on his chest proudly flashing 'Chork Nuook'.

"Well?" Chork asked, raising a dark eyebrow at him. Bolin tore his eyes away from the nameplate, his feet tingling unpleasantly as he shifted his weight.

"I—well I'm not  _re_ ally sure. She was kind of…" Bolin mimed the motion of punching an invisible bag, "And then she sort of just…" He glanced down at her, "…fell?"

Chork snorted, his dangling neck swaying with the movement.

"You don't sound so sure of that."

"She fell," Bolin amended quickly, "She definitely fell."

Oh, you could trust that she  _fell_ , Bolin wanted snap at Chork. The only definite in this entire situation was that she  _fell._ Other than that, he couldn't really tell the man much more than was visibly obvious to anyone. She was Water Tribe, she was sick. Bolin looked down again, eyes lingering on the soft line of her jaw.

She was pretty.

Chork kneeled down in front of her. At first Bolin thought he would do the basic first aid that almost everyone knew: test skin temperature, check pulse, and attempt to shake her awake, but instead Chork reached for her shirt collar, dangerously close.

He spared Bolin a fleeting glance, looking him up and down in appraisal, then shrugged, pinching a leather cord between his fingers and yanking a long necklace out of the girl's shirt. The red moon crescent pendant swung in the air for a moment, light playing across its polished surface. Chork grabbed it and turned it over in his fingers, revealing a tiny 8 carved into the material. He clicked his tongue, nodding slightly, and stood, letting the pendant drop onto the floor with a clatter.

Chork turned to go, but Bolin jerked forward and grabbed his coat sleeve. He glanced down at Bolin's hand, a frown making his jowls hang a touch lower on his round face. Bolin flushed, yanking his hand away quickly.

"Uh…" he swallowed, setting his feet, "I'm no healer or nothing, but shouldn't she go to a hospital?"

Chork laughed quietly, shaking his head.

"Don't you know who that  _is_?"

Bolin stared.

"…Does that matter?"

Chork laughed again, louder this time.

" _Clearly_ ," he said, waving a hand at the unconscious girl, "She doesn't want to go to the hospital."

The girl suddenly shuddered violently, curling in on herself.

"How could you  _pos_ sibly know that?" Bolin asked.

Chork shrugged, straightening the collar on his shirt. A red ring glinted on his right hand.

"How indeed," he said, turning to leave again, "You should leave now. She's no longer your concern."

" _What_?"

The high-pitched squeak Bolin let out turned a couple of heads, but Chork kept walking. He disappeared behind a door marked 'Employees only'.

Another shuddering breath wracked the girl's body, and with one last dirty look at where Chork had disappeared, Bolin kneeled beside her. He placed the back of his hand on her forehead.

It was uncomfortably hot. Unnaturally hot.

He frowned. She almost felt as warm as…

Bolin had one of her hands clasped between two of his own before he could tell himself it was impossible. He had to hold back a cry of surprise at the sharp pain, dropping her hand back onto the floor.

Light pink burns gently spotted his palms.

He stared. She'd  _burned_  him.  _Through_   _the fabric of her gloves_. And as for her sickness…

Well, Bolin knew a firebender's fever when he saw one.

.o.O.o.

She was working.

Or at least, she thought she was working. It felt like work, her hands passing over the motions in an easy routine that she couldn't imagine being any different. And she knew, she  _knew_ , that this was what work was. But at the same time she was completely aware that she had absolutely no knowledge of how to make  _Earth Kingdom_ pottery.

She shifted her feet into an easy stance and curved her hand in something reminiscent of water bending, only slower and stronger in her movements. The clay curved, bending without her touching it. This was not strange, even as a thrill of surprise shot through her. The clay easily shaped into a jar, its edges compressing into a language she couldn't read.

Except she knew that it said "The Spirits of the Solstice Bless the Rising Moon".

Korra blinked, reaching up to touch the skin beside her eyes. But her arms did not move except to reach out for a fine wooden tool that she held like a paintbrush to carefully carve the crest of the Northern Water Tribe into the clay.

Someone entered the tent from behind her, for indeed she was in some kind of pottery tent with rickety shelves lined with bowls and jars she knew her own hands had created.

She turned and smiled at the aged woman with sun darkened skin and deep set brown eyes.

"My dear wife," Korra said in a decidedly masculine voice, "Is something the matter?"

Korra was starting to feel a flutter of panic in her chest, contrasting sharply with a sense of calm the she (he?) was feeling in the presence of his wife. Impossibly, she was two people at once.

The woman—wife—smiled and shook her head.

"The children suffer from hunger and you are missing from our fireplace."

"Oh my," Korra glanced around at the darkening tent, "I did not know the time. Just let me—" she reached out her hands, and with a sharp movement sent a stream of fire from her fingers, engulfing the clay pot. The woman turned her face away from the heat, wrinkling her nose in annoyance as she waited for the flames to stop.

"Are you quite done?" she asked, her voice impatient.

"Finished," Korra said, letting the fire disappear into air as she picked up the newly hardened jar, unbothered by the heat, "Wonderful, isn't it? I made it for my waterbending sifu. She'll be pleased, don't you think?"

The woman bristled. "Oh yes. I’m sure that she'll be absolutely _thrilled_."

Korra laughed and placed the jar on a shelf between two others of a similar design. She curled an arm around the woman's waist and led her out of the tent, emerging into some sort of village no more than ten houses large and surrounded by deep Earth Kingdom forests.

Home (a strange new place), foreign and native all at once, jumping back and forth until Korra's head spun uncomfortably fast. She struggled without moving. Struggling to pull her arm away from the strange woman, to stop speaking in a language she had no knowledge of, to stop feeling the earth breathe quietly beneath her feet, because this wasn't her.  _This wasn't her_.

Suddenly she was falling backwards, her arms flailing to catch her before she slammed into the dirt path. But her weight alighted down gently, without even a sudden stop to jar her about. Sitting up as quickly as she could, she stared at the woman who had continued to walk without her, as if nothing had happened. A man had his arm around her waist now, dressed in Earth Kingdom animal pelts and with a long grey beard hiding most of his face. Korra placed a hand over her racing heart, but felt nothing under her fingertips but the rapid rise and fall of her breath.

No heartbeat at all.

The contradicting thoughts had stopped battling in her head, and when she stood up and chased after the couple, she could no longer understand the language they spoke.

"Hey!" she shouted. They didn't look back at her. "Hey!" she said a little louder, "What's going on?"

The couple continued, oblivious. Korra huffed in annoyance, reaching out a hand towards them to try and get their attention.

Her hand passed through the woman's shoulder like burying it into fine, fine sand, prickly grit scratching at her skin as she pressed forward and through. Korra jerked back with an alarmed cry. The woman didn't even blink.

"What the—" Korra stared. They had reached a large central fire, surrounded by other Earth Kingdom folk all chatting happily as they stirred several pots sitting on the fire. They all cheered when they saw the potter, friendly slaps on the back and playful scolds, Korra assumed, for being late. Children wove between legs, several approaching the potter timidly. One light-haired girl shyly tugged on his pant leg, making him kneel down so she could whisper wetly into his ear. He smiled and ruffled her tangled hair.

"Adorable, isn't it?"

Korra let out a small scream, the voice in her ear speaking clear common tongue without the barest hint of an accent. She spun, snapping into a defensive waterbending stance, but she still almost fell over in surprise when she saw the Air Nomad garbs and tattoos.

"F—" she couldn't seem to form the word. Swallowing hard, she scowled, tightening her hands into fists and trying again, "Who the  _hell_  are  _you?_ "

The Air Nomad shook his head in amusement.

"Oh, I think you know perfectly well who  _I_ am, Korra," his smile curled slightly as he looked her over, "You have no idea how hard it was to get here. Those walls you put up are impressive. Annoying. But impressive."

There was a round of laughter around the fire at something someone had said. Korra was choking on her panic.

"What is this?" she said, "A dream? And who  _are_ you?!"

"This is a memory," the Air Nomad said with a shrug, "From a past life of yours. Just a happy, ordinary memory. People are apparently less guarded against happy memories after passing out from exhaustion. Ah yes, and my _name_ ," He grinned, "Is Avatar Aang. It's nice to finally meet you, Korra."

.o.O.o.

Korra screamed bloody murder, her muscles seizing up as her eyes shooting open.

Where was she?

The trees were gone, the village and fire and all of the laughing children. Gone and quiet, there were no more words in some language she didn't know or unfamiliar soil under her feet. All the sights and sounds were replaced by white noise and darkness and her pounding heart. She covered her ears with desperate fingers, trying to stop the noise. It only grew worse, higher and faster until a room began to spin in her vision, the white ceiling stretching out forever until it turned into walls. Her stomach churned.

Where was she?

A wintery touch grazed her forehead, and Korra flinched away from the bite, a ragged gasp stopping her screams short. Her breath whooshed back out in wracking coughs. She was chocking, her attempts to breathe between coughs making a high, desperate keening noise, like she was a trapped rabbit squirrel screaming in a last ditch effort to avoid slaughter at the hands of an eagle hawk. The frosty touch disappeared, but the screams continued.

"Stop it," A shaking voice shouted, volume rising to be heard over the gasping shrieks, "Stop. I don't know what—I said  _stop it_ dammit."

Icy water broke over Korra's face. The shock of cold stopped her breath for a moment. She sat straight up in her bed, gasping a lungful of harsh, coarse air. This time, when she breathed, her chest rose and fell with only a light rasping, her fear dripping in cold trails of water down her neck, her hysteria soaking into her white shirt until it was clear and stuck to her like a second skin. Aisu stood above her, an empty metal bucket clutched in her hands.

Korra stared up at her, ears ringing a little more quietly. For a moment nothing dared to move except for the mute drip of water droplets rolling off the side of the empty bucket. Aisu's eyes were wide and bloodshot, makeup smudged under her eyes like she had been crying.

Korra smoothed her gloved fingers over the soaking wet blue cotton of her blanket. She was in her room. Home. Safe. She felt her heartbeat slow in her neck, an actual  _proper_  heartbeat. A dream, it had just been a bad dream. It hadn't been real.

Her temples ached with visions of Air Nomads.

"What was that for?" Korra finally croaked, brushing back a soaked strand of hair. Her voice rolled sorely in her chest.

Aisu scowled.

"For scaring the  _shit_  out of me," she said, "Why were you screaming like that?"

Korra shivered, a droplet of water rolling down her nose.

"I—," she bit her lip, "It was just a bad dream."

Aisu scoffed.

"A bad dream? Must have been one hell of a bad dream. You sounded like you were being  _murdered._ " Aisu bent over and slammed the empty bucket onto the ground. It looked as if she had begun to take off her coat, even getting both arms out of the sleeves, but then forgotten about it half way through; leaving it clinging limply to her waist by the buttons she'd only half undone. She straightened stiffly, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh dear," she said sarcastically, "It seems we're out of water. I'll go get some more."

Korra flinched as Aisu slammed the door behind her. The cold water’s chill had begun to sink into her and she shivered violently, unsteadily bending herself dry. Her skin felt chalky as she carefully twisted the ribbon of water into the bucket on the ground, and her blankets were stiff as she let her hands drop back down onto her lap. Korra took several deep breaths through her nose, trying to stop the spinning and ringing.

 _This was her room_. Over there was the raised spot on her wall where they'd had to plaster over a hole. Aisu had somehow managed to put her foot through it about a year ago. Korra couldn't even remember why, or  _how_. But now it was there, a tiny scar hiding under light blue paint. The same as it had always been since the paint had dried way back then. The sameness was comforting, like it was pretending that everything was okay and unchanged. Korra slowly laid back down, head spinning at the movement. A feverous chill ran through her.

The door banged open, slamming into the wall with a loud  _crack_  as Aisu marched back in, a steaming mug cupped in her hands. She walked up to Korra and thrust it towards her, orange-brown liquid slopping over the side.

"Here," she snapped, "For your fever."

Korra took the cup numbly.

"Oh," she said, looking into the murky drink that smelt of citrus, "I'm sick." She raised an unsteady hand to her temple. Korra could count the number of times she'd been sick on the fingers of one hand. In a Water Tribe area of town, illness didn't tend to prosper, with healers and remedies for everything under the midnight sun lining the streets day in and day out. Virtually nothing spread, and sniffles could be cured within a day. Almost everyone knew at least a little about healing. Almost everyone, that is, with the conspicuous exception of the members of the Red Monsoons. For a moment Korra wondered why that was.

"Yes, you're sick" Aisu snapped, breaking Korra out of her wondering, "Congratulations on noticing. Anything else you'd like to tell me? The year? My name, perhaps?"

Korra pouted up at Aisu, taking a loud sip from the tea, "You're angry at me."

_WHAM_

Korra almost dropped her tea, staring up at Aisu where she trembled, her fist remaining pressed against the wall she had just punched.

"No," Aisu said, strangling on the word, "Of course not. Why would you think that?"

Korra was silent. Aisu pulled her fist away from the wall and cradling it against her chest.

"Why would I be angry at you?" She continued calmly, her voice rising with each word, "You didn't  _do_  anything. Except fucking disobeying a direct order. And disappearing after a job _._  And didn't tell anyonewhere you went. And hell, if you're going to scare the hell out of all of us, why not do it while getting lots of exercise  _at the bloody gym_." Aisu hiccupped, quickly covering her mouth with a hand. Her eyes were shiny. Korra frowned.

"Has…something happened?"

Aisu took a shuddering breath, snapping her shaking hands into fists. Her eyes became half-lidded, almost sleepy as she made her face carefully blank. Korra's hands chilled, and she looked down to find a coating of frost over the surface of her tea.

"They're dead," Aisu said, each sound enunciated, "Kilee and Naki. They're dead," She turned to glare at Korra, "And I thought  _you_  were dead, you idiot."

Korra's jaw dropped.

" _What?_ " she sputtered, clutching her frozen tea, "Who—"

"No," Aisu interrupted harshly, and Korra is taken aback. No? It  _had_  to have been murder. There was no such thing as freak accidents or illness in the Red Monsoons. Aisu cleared her throat and continued hesitantly, "I mean… it wasn't the Agni Kais. At least they don't think it was."

Korra frowned.

"…Triple Threats?"

The Triple Threats and Red Monsoons didn't often cross paths, a strip of Agni Kai territory acting as an effective barrier between them most of the time, but attacks weren't unheard of. Aisu gnawed on her lip.

"Well, no. They're saying—" she paused, frowning, "I mean  _Kasen_  said that it looks like it may have been a group of nonbenders. It's completely ridiculous, but…"

"…but that's what the signs are pointing towards." Korra finished. Always signs, she thought, pointing the fingers for you in directions you don't want them to go. Nonbenders killing waterbenders. Waterbenders leaving nonbenders for dead in the streets. She closed her eyes, wishing her brain could leave her alone for just this once as the ache in her temple started pounding again.

Aisu was shaking her head, ever so slightly.

"But  _Nonbenders_? Kilee and Naki are  _warriors_. There's no way they could have possibly been bested by a bunch of  _nobodies_ like that," Aisu scratched her chin, "If you ask me Ranshao finally got a brain on him, or at least hired someone else with one. He's obviously trying to lead us off the Agni Kais…"

"But why would he have a sudden change in tactics?" Korra argued, clearing her throat as her voice croaked painfully, "That guy's famous for never changing his mind."

Aisu raised her eyebrows.

"But his  _nephew_ 's not. There might be some new leadership coming into the Agni Kais soon. Either way, Yakuna's spooked," she rolled her eyes to the ceiling, "You're the only one who's getting out of our first bending-free training tonight. Kanshu stopped by earlier and gave you the night off," she glanced down at Korra, "You're welcome for that, by the way."

Korra swallowed, leaning over and placing her steaming tea on the nightstand.

"Thanks Su," she muttered, slowly laying back into her pillow. The movement made her stomach flip, and Korra thought she was going to be sick for a moment before the nausea passed.

Aisu shook her head.

"Don't thank me until after I've paid you back for this. I swear, I'll have you doing my paperwork for a month for scaring me like that," she bent over and tugged the final buttons loose on her jacket with unsteady hands, letting the blue fabric fall to the floor, "I'm going to bed." She said quietly, stepping out of the pool of cloth, "I'm pretty sure Kasen told me something about you sleeping on your side so if you throw up you won't suffocate. Be sure to do that."

The floor creaked under Aisu's footsteps as she walked away.

"Hey, Su."

Aisu paused, glancing over her shoulder.

"What?"

"Where were… the bodies found?"

Silence stretched between them for a moment, Korra picking at the seam of her blanket.

"I'm not sure," Aisu said at last, "The industrial area, I think. Somewhere they shouldn’t have been, at the very least."

Korra swallowed.

"Oh," she said softly, trying not to let the relief show in her voice. Not Otter Trail, at least, "Alright."

Aisu groaned, letting her shoulders hunch. She rubbed the back of her neck with a wide yawn. Korra smiled.

The worst of hurricane Aisu was over.

"Night," Aisu muttered, dragging her feet out the door.

Korra stared at the door for several seconds after Aisu was gone.

Steam rose from the tea in hot, curling tendrils.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was unsatisfied, so i changed some of the things. still not 100%, but I like it enough : )


	5. Chapter 5

It only took Korra one day to get better. By the second day she was feeling fine, the flash sickness gone without as much as a cough to remember it by. But Aisu had seen her at her worst, and had insisted that she stay home one more day, unable to believe that Korra could have possibly recovered already. Which is how, after a fair bit of shouting, Korra found herself lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, until she heard Aisu slam the door shut on her way out.

As Aisu's grumblings about extra training faded down the hallway and into the stairwell, Korra was free to exit her room and lounge around the apartment as she pleased. There wasn't much to do but listen to the radio and read the paper, so she ended up spending most of her time sleeping anyways, but something about lazing around at home when she knew that she should have been working made it all the more relaxing. It was like a sort of vacation, safe from the drumming rain and the chill-edged warmth of almost-summer that waited for her in the outside world.

That night's probending game shouted from the radio as Korra tied her hair back from her face, some team called the Fire Ferrets apparently meeting their 'toughest test yet' against the Golden Temple Tigerdillos. Shinobi sounded thoroughly impressed by the rookie Ferret team, barely paying the Tigerdillos any heed at all.

Korra opened the floor-length curtains with a flourish, leaning over to turn up the radio a little. Shinobi was giving himself an aneurism as he started to cheer on some kid named Bolin. His excitement was contagious, and Korra could feel an extra sing to her movements as she spun back towards the windows.

The tall glass panes reflected a greyed version of her home. Korra bowed towards her image with a small grin, gazing at her slightly more tired looking doppelganger. Past her grey face Korra could see the night's skyline of Republic City. Lights of varying shades of yellow, white, blue, and orange winked back at her, as if to make up for the stars that were hidden by rainclouds. In the distance, the probending arena shined like a golden beacon.

Shinobi was shouting as the Fire Ferrets' firebender was knocked out of the ring.

Her hand had reached out and unlocked the sliding door leading out to the balcony before she could think better of it, stepping out into the smell of heavy rain. Outside, the arena glowed brighter, its light cutting through storm's air sharply.

"Round 2," her radio shouted from inside, voice carrying over the doorway cheerfully. The bell sang out, but its note was almost immediately interrupted by a buzzer announcing that a team has already been knocked back a zone.

"The Fire Ferrets are knocked into Zone Two and the Tigerdillos advance," Shinobi said. Korra frowned, bouncing up onto her toes, the cement balcony’s rough surface digging into the skin of her bare feet in pinpricks of pain. Her fists rose up to her chin, eyes locked on the distant arena.

"Bolin strikes with a sharp jab!"

She lashed out hard, a strip of rain suddenly exploding away from the balcony. Korra laughed, pulling back quickly.

"Two quick hits from Shaozu."

Two large handfuls of water were drawn from the air, flying from Korra's fingers like discuses as she swung her arms wide.

"And a finishing combo by Hasook!"

Her feet scraped harshly as Korra spun on the spot, kicking high and around towards the Republic City sky. The raindrops trembled around the kick, losing their speed and swarming together like confused insects for a moment before continuing towards the ground.

"The Fire Ferrets cinch the round in the closing seconds!"

Korra whooped a cheer, throwing her arms up in victory. A spray of water flew back from the sheet of rain at her movement, making her jump back with a peal of laughter. The storm roared and crashed through the sky in perfect beat with Shinobi's dialog, and Korra imagined the rain was a cheering crowd. She closed her eyes and tilted her face up, taking in their praise. They loved her, they were proud of her and wanted her to win, and she would win, one more round and she would win—.

A sharp tapping on the door behind her made Korra start and whirl around in surprise.

Huka stood there, eyebrows raised and a small smile playing around his lips as he watched her. She flushed.

"Huka!" she said, jumping over the threshold in one step, "I didn't realize… um," she quickly leaned over and turned to volume down to almost zero, "Sorry."

The faint sound of Shinobi's voice was disappointed about something. Korra didn't blame him, her buzz of happiness was suddenly dead too. But Huka seemed amused, looking down at the radio with a small smile.

"Aisu assured me that I'd find you sick in bed," he said after a while, taking off his grey hat and tucking it under his arm, "Why is that?"

Korra smiled sheepishly, reaching a gloved hand behind her and sliding the door closed. The storm’s noise became muffled.

"Aisu gets a little overprotective sometimes," she said, "Whatever she tells you, she practically tied me to my bed to make sure I wouldn’t go to work. I feel fine."

Huka tilted his head, his sleepy eyes searching her face carefully.

"That’s good. Does that mean you’ll be at bending-free combat training bright and early tomorrow morning?"

"Ah," she said, voice strangling a little in her throat, "No. Not quite better enough for that yet."

"Oh dear," Huka chuckled, “You never were very good at waking up early.”

Korra wrinkled her nose at him.

“Are you here for a reason or are you just going to make fun of me?”

Huka smiled and nodded, picking up his hat and pulling it back over his close-cropped curls with a firm tug. He’d grown since she’d met him in the Blue Lanterns, when they were kids sleeping in warehouses and foregoing shoes for callous-heavy feet, but his eyes were the same sleepy blue that always seemed trustworthy and calm as he spoke in his particular soft manner. He was taller now ( _much_ taller), and could probably break Korra’s arm with one hand if she let him, but deep down Huka was still a giant softy.

The radio turned off with a  _click_ , shutting off Shinobi's grainy muttering. Huka's fingers lingered on the knob for a second, as if debating whether or not to turn it back on, but pulled away in the end.

"Branch Eight is back on day shifts," he said.

Korra nodded.

"Ya," she said, "Aisu told me. Why can't Yakuna just decide on when she needs us working, day or night, and  _leave us there_. This schedule shifts are killing me."

"The Red Monsoons are going through some changes right now," Huka said, shrugging slightly, "It's a little chaotic. We're all trying to work it out, but we need to be sure everything gets done without opening any holes in our defense. Nonbenders are coming up with ways to threaten the Triads now. It's not going to turn out well. Expect very little sleep for the next little while."

Korra groaned, lolling her head backwards.

"But what about the solstice?" she asked, "That's in, what, three days? Are you telling me I won't get the night off?"

Huka cocked his head, his brow creasing

"You're getting time off now, aren't you?"

"That's beside the point! It's a  _holiday_."

"The Red Monsoons aren't a bank. Holidays don't put business on a standstill."

"Urg," Korra glared at Huka, "I thought being in Branch Eight gave me some privileges."

"Say that to a Branch One and you’ll make yourself an enemy," Huka quirked an eyebrow, "Nonbending combat isn't the most difficult thing you could be doing right now. I could set you up with some of the paperwork that gets filtered down to the lower grunts, if you like."

"Alright, alright," Korra said, waving her hand, "I get it. Sorry. Is there anything else you needed to tell me before I go back to being ‘sick’?"

Huka glanced at the window behind Korra, hand resting over his water pouch. The wind surged timidly, drawing rainwater further onto the balcony until it pinged against the window loudly for an instant like a little hummed song.

"You're not taking these nonbenders seriously,” he said plainly, “Aisu definitely isn't. But it wasn't Agni Kais, or Triple Threats who attacked Bo and Kilee.”

Korra blinked. His voice was always soft, but this had been barely more than a whisper, the words holding less meaning than the way he shifted his feet closer together, shoes scuffing against the floor.

"What?" she asked, "Do we know who did it?"

Huka didn't answer at first, his mouth pressing into a line.

"Just remember," he said after a long moment, "Bo and Kilee were powerful waterbenders. And they were killed on a  _full moon_. You should be careful."

"Huka?"

"That's all," he said. His face suddenly broke up into a soft smile and he reached up to ruffle her wolftail playfully, as if she were still seven years old, "Now go back to bed before Aisu gets back and gives you an earful for disobeying her."

Korra’s head suddenly started aching acutely, making her squint against the pain of it.

“I don’t care what Aisu says,” she muttered.

“Liar,” Huka said.

Pain slammed into Korra with a hundred times its original strength, making her flinch back. Her breath halted in her chest, a wave of confusion and denial cresting over her thoughts with a crash of crippling pain tearing through her temples. 

 _Liar_ , a voice scraped at her eyes with broken fingernails,  _How could you lie to us?_

She blinked quickly, the pain disappearing as suddenly as it had appeared. She bit the inside of her cheek. She reminded herself as firmly as she could that Huka wasn’t talking about _that_. He looked down at her, his brow creased in worry.

"Right," she said unsteadily, "I—um," she had to sink her teeth into the meat of her cheek again before she was able to sort out something to say from the shards of her thoughts, "GoodbyeHuka."

The image of Huka nodding, still looking vaguely worried, was acutely clear in her memory, but for a moment her concentration was taken up by the wind pushing rain against the window again. By the time the humming song stopped all she saw of him was the apartment door clicking shut behind a boot sole.

Korra sighed and reached blindly behind her, pressing a hand against the cool window. On the other side, the clinging droplets of water gently connected silvery paths of chi to her fingertips, reaching through the glass and the fabric of her gloves to curl beneath her skin like delicate frost. Carefully deliberate and impossibly natural, and yet all it sunk into her as familiar and real as the blood in her veins. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply through her nose, trying to let the healing power of the element sooth her mind and ease the shaking across her skin. She released the air and slowly, slowly, felt the dizzying thoughts fold back, tucked behind a memory of summertime swimming in the bay.

When her eyes opened again she was suddenly aware of the emptiness of long gone summers in the silent home. A cold dread sunk into her, and she snapped her arm away from the window. Leaning down, the radio's dial was clicked on with a little too much force. Shinobi's voice was gone, the probending match over, and an upbeat swing tune burst from the speaker. With a sigh Korra switched it off again, wondering who had won.

.o.O.o.

Aisu arrived later that night with rumpled hair and an envelope clutched in her hand.

“You’ve got mail,” she deadpanned, tossing the letter onto Korra’s stomach. Korra grabbed the letter as she sat up, the couch groaning under her weight, and flipped the envelope over. The back was blank, not a letter of writing gracing the crisp white surface.

“How do you know?” Korra asked, flipping it over again as if that might make the writing appear.

“Kasen gave it to me,” Aisu said with a shrug, “It was very mysterious.”

“Mystery letter,” Korra said, tearing it open with her pinkie finger, “my favourite.”

Aisu rolled her eyes, wandering over to the kitchen and throwing open the icebox’s door in search of some food. She was out of luck, Korra knew. They hadn’t done groceries in ages; Aisu would be lucky if she could find a bottle of half-finished soy sauce.

Korra unfolded the note with a flourish. It was inked onto creased paper in a straight, loopy script, which Korra immediately recognized as recognized as Renya's writing. She angled the paper to catch the light of the lamp and smiled slightly when she saw her name spelt wrong.

_Kara,_

_Kasen told me you are sick. This is what happens when you run around in the rain at night and refuse to sleep. Stupid girl. Drink water._

_The girl is still asleep in the hospitil. We were correct, she was drugged. Overdose with some over-the-conter stuff, cure for foot fungus, that apparantly causes hallusanations in certain people if taken too much. The girl has no foot fungus. We havent seen any signs of people looking for her. She hasn't waken for more than a few minutes, and when she did the medication hadn't worn off yet. She kept attacking the healers. Sumak wants you to give her a apology meal._

_Take the summer solstace off. Dont work so much. It's the Water Tribe festaval this year. Your family should have no complaint._

_Drink water._

“Damn it, Kasen,” Korra muttered, “Always talking to the people I don’t want him talking to.”

“Kasen?” Aisu said, walking out of the kitchen with a mostly-empty jar of pickled ocean kumquats in her hand, “He does it on purpose. Likes causing trouble for people, that one.”

Korra blew her bangs out of her eyes with a puff of breath.

“Whatever,” she said, tilting her head as she read over the letter again. It was actually quite remarkable how much Renya’s writing had improved over the years, considering she’d been illiterate when Korra had met her all those years ago. Her eyes lighted down on the scrawl of _solstace_.

“What are we doing for the solstice this year, anyways?” Korra asked, “We usually get it off, but this year is…” Korra trailed off, glancing at Aisu through her eyelashes. Aysu was busy fishing out another ocean kumquat with her bare fingers.

“Dunno,” Aisu said as she popped the caught kumquat into her mouth, “We’re mostly doing some information gathering right now, so a night off probably won’t matter much. Huka’s stuck on that whole nonbending movement being the cause of this. The Equalizers or something stupid like that.”

Korra cocked her head to the side.

“The Equalists? But they’re just a political group, aren’t they?”

Aisu shrugged, licking her fingers clean of the vinegar.

“I didn’t say he was _right_. But he’s been sending us to watch a bunch of their anti-bending rallies to see if anything’s up. I’ve never known so much about the nonbender wage gap,” she put the lid back on the jar, setting it on the coffee table gently, “Did you know that people living in non-bending boroughs are 12 times more likely to be victims of mugging by bending perpetrators?”

“Careful, Su,” Korra teased, “Keep this up and you’ll be a nonbender rights activist.”

A handful of water zipped forward, threatening to smack Korra in the face, but she caught it with a giggle and tossed it back to Aisu, who pouted as she bent it back into her pouch.

“But anyways,” she said, falling onto the couch at Korra’s feet with a huff, “I’m not sure. If we’re lucky Kasen will be in a good enough mood to put in a good word for us with Yakuna.”

Korra grinned, stretching her arms over her head in victory.

“I hope so. I want some of that festival food!”

Aisu smiled, rubbing Korra’s knee fondly.

The oncoming solstice was making Korra’s blood sing like a rainstorm during the full moon, the warmth in her chest kissing her heartbeat with every pound. The Spirit world would be close to the real world, the thinnest of rivers dividing their worlds' banks apart.

Her smile faltered as she remembered just where a bridge to cross such a river could be found. The face of an Air Nomad filled her mind's eye as she fumbled to stuff the letter back into the envelope.

The probending arena glowed innocently through the window.

.o.O.o.

Red walls leered at Mako, quietly distracting him with their smoothness threaded with deliberate maroon texture. They reflected the crystal light fixture in hazes and patches like pavement that had been cracked by the severity of far too hot a sun. It made his mouth dry, a powdery sensation that started on the tip of his tongue and dabbled into his nose like the sour taste of rotten fruit. Ranshao droned on, and his words of money and loss wound through the air, cutting and sewing themselves into a garb of war that Ranshao had imagined into the world of the Agni Kais. A war that didn't exist outside of the red walls, and yet had somehow taken control of Mako's life so completely he was sure he would die fighting in it.

"…routes to bay have been cut off; we'll be raising rent to make up for it…"

A bit of Ranshao's lecture broke through the red walls' hold, but all Mako heard was the same thing he'd heard yesterday and every day before that for the last three years. Something put a strain on the Agni Kais' finances, extortion rates went up. Mako held back a sigh, tearing his eyes away from a deep maroon vein on the wall to try and follow Ranshao’s words. What he heard gave his stomach a foreboding twist.

The Triad was in a rut, and the only destination it would lead to was a bleak one. When the Agni Kais finally arrived at the end of the path, nothing would be able to keep them afloat.

Playing with the edge of his scarf, Mako's thoughts slipped to Bolin.

 _Maybe we'll get out before then_ , he accidentally let himself hope. He closed his eyes, firmly reminding himself that there was no point hoping for something that would likely never come. He had to plan for the worst. And the worst was playing in front of him like a broken record in the shape of a skinny man in a grey suit who was more dangerous than he looked by an infinite amount.

Ranshao paused, spinning on his heel to face Mako with a creased brow.

"Are you listening to me, Mako?"

Mako looked up, meeting Ranshao's bright golden gaze. It threw him, sometimes, how much like his mother this man resembled.

"Not really." He admitted, folding his hands onto his knees. The spindly wooden chair squealed under him in protest as he shifted his weight forward, "But let me guess. Full moon, Red Monsoons gave us trouble,  _again_. They have control of the bay,  _again_ , and the smuggling routes over land aren't doing well because, mysteriously, there are  _still_  mountains in the way. Metalbenders have caught some of our men,  _again_ , and the bloodies probably took out a couple more,  _again_. Triple Threats are still beating the crap out of us, the public still hates us, and for some reason you think that it's a good idea to raise our rates,  _again_ , because  _that's_  a good way to make them stop hating us."

Mako pushed himself to his feet.

"How much did I get right?"

Ranshao scowled, his lips puckering.

"Don't get clever," he mumbled, eyes flashing like light off daggers, "A dozen members wound up dead in neutral territory three days ago, no sign of bending. And that  _is_  a first. Something new like that is why it's important you know what's going on in the Triad."

 _Why?!_ Mako wanted to shout.  _Because you think you can convince me? You think any of this will matter when you're gone and I'm gone and the Agni Kais are all gone and dead?_

"Why don't you tell these things to Zolan? We both know that he's the one who'll actually be leading the Agni Kais when I ‘take over’," he said instead, pushing his hair back from his forehead with agitated fingers.

A paper crinkled under Ranshao's palm as he leaned forward onto his desk.

"Who says I don’t just have immense faith in you?"

"I do."

Mako tried not to glare as Ranshao threw his head back and laughed. The silver threading into the black hair at his temples held the electric light much better than the walls did; strands glinting like snow when there's a layer of hard crust, the kind that might not break under your feet if you tread lightly enough.

"You've still got spirit to you," Ranshao said when he had finished laughing, "That's good. But the last time you got so daring, you went a little too far. Remember?"

Mako remembered. The feeling of ropes slowly scraping away the skin of his wrists as he listened to Bolin cry out for him was something he didn't think he could soon forget. He could still see Ranshao meeting Mako's eyes as he gave the order to cut deeper, and he could still hear Bolin's screams rise an octave as blood dripped onto the floor. Mako swallowed back the panic in his chest that came with the memory.  _That won't happen this time_ , he told himself.

"We're not stupid enough to try running again." Mako said slowly, keeping his voice level. Rain drummed against the windows like desperate fingers, scraping down the glass in silent pleas to be let inside. Ranshao cocked his head towards the sound, a small smile lingering around his mouth.

"Of course," he agreed, playing with the gold cuff links on his sleeve, "But are you smart enough to listen when I tell you to?"

Fierce anger roared in Mako's bones, tickling in his wrists and chest. He wanted nothing more than to strike out, lash a burn across his uncle's pale cheek. Or better yet, strike him dead here and now, escape in the night, his brother tucked safely under his wing, and flee over the mountains. The great rocky barrier would seem like nothing larger than an anthill after the years of struggle.

The spindly chair squeaked again as Mako slowly sat back onto it, keeping his eyes locked on Ranshao's. He tried not to let the walls distract him this time, and when Ranshao smiled his white teeth were a bloodier colour than red.

"Excellent," Ranshao said, clapping his hands together in delight, "Moving on then. We lost Otter Trail—,"

Mako wanted to close his eyes. He couldn't believe he was missing his brother's probending match for this.

.o.O.o.

Yakuna blew a ring of smoke towards the ceiling. Kasen watched it with careful eyes as it dispersed into the air, grey as winter clouds.

“That’s too bad,” Yakuna said, “And she let the kid run?”

Kasen nodded once in confirmation.

Yakuna rolled her neck in a circle as if it was stiff and she wanted to loosen it up a bit. Her mouth curled into a sad smile as she took another pull from her cigarette.

“Well, I’m not worried. Korra’s a loyal child, always has been. I’ll let it slip just this once,” she kicked at her desk, turning in a full rotation in her chair as she blew out another lungful of smoke, “And the Moon Flower?”

Kasen was silent for a moment, adjusting his spectacles on his nose with a quiet hand.

“Nothing much to report,” he said quietly, “Korra is still… fond of them. But no one seems to suspect, which is ideal.”

Yakuna nodded, smiling at Kasen fondly as she rubbed a hand over her close-cropped hair.

One of Yakuna’s most terrifying traits was her smile. Her mouth was usually set in an agreeable expression, but her eyes hid nothing. When she was considering killing those who were in front of her, her icy gaze communicated it as clearly as any words. She could smile as fondly as any mother as she slit your throat without hesitation.

“Then we’ll leave them be for now,” Yakuna said, nodding, “How goes it with the grunts we sent over to our new business partner?”

Kasen allowed himself a small smile, just a slight upturn of the corners of his mouth.

“Beautifully,” he nodded to the cabinet sitting slightly ajar behind Yakuna’s desk, “And we have them all marked down in case of any complaints.”

Yakuna glanced over her shoulder, smiling fondly at the rows upon rows of vials, standing at attention like little glass soldiers.

“Yes,” Yakuna agreed, playing with her rank pendent, “That is true. I just want this partnership to work, you know? Future Industries is the biggest company we’ve had under our thumb since…” Yakuna tilted her head, thinking, “Well, ever, actually. I could hardly stand to see a few un-loyal nobodies ruining it for us.”

Kasen nodded in agreement, casting his eyes downward as Yakuna twisted the cord of her pendent around her fingers. It was a gold ring, the sunrays around its edges marking it for what it was. An eclipsed sun.

“Now,” Yakuna said, leaning forward as Kasen glanced up, resting her elbows on her desk, “About Branch Eight…”

.o.O.o.

When Korra stretched her memory as far as it went, she thought that she could remember what her life was like when she lived in the South Pole.

Korra remembered a very dim hut, with animal skins and hunting spears hanging from the walls.

Korra remembered the sea prunes draped over the half-rotted wooden rafters in strings; long necklaces dangling from the wrinkled necks of croons.

Korra remembered how, when she stepped outside, the snow would shine blindingly bright for a few painful minutes before her eyes had the chance to adjust.

And, with a clarity that sometimes startled her, Korra remembered the boy she sometimes practiced waterbending with.

Not his name. Never his name. Just one day, and a face. The paleness of his skin had been so strange and beautiful, bright as the sun glinting off the snow. Korra remembered sitting on the ground across from him, a ball of water suspended in the air between them both as they played a waterbender's arm-wrestle. The rules were simple: whoever let the water splash them lost.

Nearby, a group of women were stirring a great pot. Every now and then they would pull a mass of bright blue buffalo-yak wool from the foul-smelling brew and hang it on a rack and add a new white clump. Korra could hear them whispering among themselves as they worked, stealing glances towards the two children.

"Look at that boy. What remarkable skin," an old, leathery-skinned woman whispered, "Surely he'll be the next Avatar. He's the perfect age for it."

A mother of the tribe leaned forward, keeping her eyes downcast even as her full mouth quirked in an excited smile.

" _I_  hear he has a birthmark on his chest in the shape of a hand. The touch of the Avatar spirit."

Some of the young women gasped, craning their necks to look at him. The boy's face remained blank, but Korra managed to get the water a few inches closer to him as his concentration lapsed.

"Could you imagine if the Avatar came from our village? We might even get a temple built!"

The woman all tutted excitedly, whispering what they would buy once they all became rich from the economic growth that would no doubt come from being the location of the Avatar's hometown. But one woman, with a round moon of a face and eyes that were heavy lidded so that she always appeared angry, frowned deeply.

"Do not be ignorant," the woman hissed, glaring over at the children kneeling on the ground, "Don't you know who that boy's  _father_ is?"

A girl, barely old enough to be a woman, frowned.

"Kenthuk?"

"—is his mother's husband," the woman said with a curl to her lip, "that boy's skin comes from his  _real_ father. A Fire Nation soldier."

The group of woman gasped in shock at the exact same moment that the boy lost, the orb of water crashing into his face in an explosion of tiny, ice-cold drops. Korra jumped to her feet with a cry of victory, throwing up her fists.

"I win!" she shouted, grinning down at the boy. But he didn't even seem to hear her. He was still staring straight ahead, hands raised as if he their game of concentration hadn't finished yet. His lips were trembling slightly.

Korra hadn’t really understood what had happened back then. Not until she grew old enough to understand what it meant to be someone like him.

He was half and half, neither fire nor water, and once the village knew it no one ever praised his snow white skin again.

.o.O.o.

In Republic City, people who were half and half were nearly as common as people who were not. But that didn't make them better received.

Aisu leaned forward to whisper in Korra’s ear, eyes trained on the girl up ahead who was dressed in water tribe clothing but had eyes that were a distinct Earth Kingdom green.

"That's disgusting," Aisu whispered, "She’s filthy as dirt, but she still tries to pass as one of us."

Korra rolled her eyes, putting a palm onto Aisu's forehead and pushing her back.

"Be quiet, Aisu," Korra said in a normal volume, "She's not deaf."

Aisu glared at the girl over Korra's shoulder.

"I am aware of that."

The half and half girl had her shoulders hunched forward, but her chin was up and her green eyes stared straight ahead in a slight squint. There was something of Water Tribe in the roundness of her mouth and the slight crimp in her hair, but the blend made Korra's stomach tighten painfully.

It didn't seem right, like something good and pure had been ruined.

"You're right," Korra said quietly, "Shouldn't she at least cover her eyes or something? Such an unfortunate colour."

Aisu chuckled, looping her arm around Korra's and tugging her slightly towards their group of Branch Eights, who had migrated over to a stand selling fried sea prunes on a stick. On the buildings above them, banners crisscrossed over the narrow street and left playful blue lines against the sky; the paths of jittery birds born of an entire city's excitement. The Summer Solstice had arrived.

The night before, Aisu had come home with flushed cheeks and bright eyes, launching herself at Korra as she half-screamed that she'd done it. Korra, who had been lying on the couch and fiddling with the newspaper, yelped as Aisu had grabbed onto her upper arms and began to shake her.

Apparently, Aisu had talked to Yakuna herself. They were getting the Summer Solstice off. All of Branch Eight. Yakuna hadn't even protested all that much, and now they were getting the vacation they'd been hoping for and Aisu had barely been able to contain herself—running around the apartment as if the news had given her an intense hit of energy that she couldn't possibly contain inside her skin.

Korra had only half believed it until they had stepped out onto the street that afternoon, music thrumming from an ice harp on the corner mixing pleasantly with the sounds and smells of humans and food. Peoples' excitement jostled Korra from all sides.

The festivals of Republic City had always been mostly informal events. Sure, over in city hall they had their fancy parties for the rich and the influential. And if you wandered far enough into downtown Republic City, you're sure to come across the powerful figures of the underworld gathering together similarly in formal dress, sharing a drink with the people they were planning to kill. But at large, the festivals were the responsibility of the people. No one needed to say an opening speech, or ring a ceremonial gong, or wait for the clock on Memorial Island to ring x number of times. Citizens decided when it began: the moment the buzz of work faded into a pounding beat of excited talk and twanging thousands of instruments. Bodies would begin to twist to the curved steps of familiar dances that the entire city seemed to know and breathe; the festival started when tense anticipation broke into excitement and joy.

It was better that way. No one person decided when the celebrations began. The citizens of Republic City decided it as a mass, one giant crowd knowing exactly when the moment felt  _right_.

The earth under Korra's feet felt more solid than usual as she took a bite of her fried sea prune, her friends joining the mass of people dancing Water Tribe dances with bright smiles and laughter. It reminded her of something, a festival under a new moon, but Korra couldn't put her finger on it.

_A hand touched her arm, and wide blue eyes looked up at her._

" _We welcome our sister tribe of the North."_

Korra rubbed her nose, turning her face up to the unusually present sun and grinned, nudging Aisu with her arm.

"Maybe there won't even be rain today," Korra said. The heavy blue sashes and flags snapped in the salty wind, joyfully curling into the sapphire of the sky in flickers and twirls. Aisu smiled and tilted her head up, her eyes half closed in a sleepy sort of contentment.

"The spirits have smiled on the year of the Water Tribes," Aisu said. Korra snorted, throwing an arm over Aisu's shoulders and tangling her fingers in the thin black braids to give them a playful tug.

Last year had seen one of the worst summer storms in years, right on the day of the Summer Solstice. It had been the year of the Air Nomads, and everyone had been looking forward to Master Tenzin and the Air Acolytes emigrating from their island to decorate the town in oranges and yellows. Master Tenzin had been planning to put on a show of his airbending.

In the end the Air Acolytes had still ended up leaving their island for the city, but it had been under the threat of a hurricane, and the ballad of wind and rain had been the only show anyone had watched.

Korra and the other Branch Eights had celebrated by having a water fight by the river instead.

The mental image of a soaked Kanshu, long hair escaped from his wolftail and sticking to his face in thick black strands, made Korra smile a little. Aisu pushed Korra's arm off her shoulders abruptly, only to turn towards another Branch Eight and latch onto him.

"Look!" she yelled over the music of a nearby iceharp, "It's Kasen!"

Korra perked up, craning her neck, and spotted him immediately. He was walking with his head ducked slightly, hat pulled down low over his eyes, but the stealth effect was somewhat ruined by the fact that the hat was a glaring white. It almost hurt to look directly at it in the bright sunlight. Korra could see the exact moment when he spotted them, because his mouth tensed into a line and his eyes flickered to the side as if debating whether or not he could still escape.

Aisu hollered and waved. He visibly hesitated, taking a half-step backwards, before apparently resigning himself to speaking with them. He waved back half-heartedly, beginning to shoulder through the crowd toward them.

Korra almost dropped her food as Aisu grabbed her wrist and started shoving past blue-clad people to meet him halfway. As soon as they were close enough Aisu jumped on him, throwing her arms around his neck as Korra watched; a smile quirked up the side of her mouth.

"Kasen!" Aisu shouted happily, going up on her tiptoes to kiss both of his cheeks in greeting. Kasen scowled, shoving Aisu’s face away from himself, and gave a nod in Korra’s direction over Aisu’s head.

"Hey Kasen," Korra said, pouting up at him as he unceremoniously pushed Aisu back, "Why haven’t you been visiting?"

Kasen glared daggers at her. He was a severe man at the best of times, with his hair not pulled back into a low bun so much as yanked into one and a mouth that was permanently puckered into a vague expression of displeasure. His ears stuck out a little, apparently never having been grown into during his childhood, and Korra knew from painful experience that it was a sore topic with him.

"I don’t enjoy you company," he deadpanned, crossing his arms, "At _all_."

Korra grinned. "Love you too, man."

Aisu leaned back on the high heels of her shoes, keeping a precarious balance as she beamed up at Kasen. He offered her a small smile, eyes flickering away. The jagged burn scar on his face made one corner of his mouth seem to curl ironically as he stared at a beggar playing the ice harp.

"How have things, being our illustrious _Silver Sandal_?" Aisu asked.

“Bothersome,” he shrugged, not looking at her “We’ve been flooded with requests for fake paperwork. Only the spirits can say _why_ anyone would want to live in this disgusting city.”

“Oh, Kasen,” Korra teased, “If you complain too much, we’ll start to suspect you of trying to cover up some _real feelings_.”

Kasen sent her a withering look.

“Well,” Aisu cut in happily, “If it makes you feel better, we’ve been working our fingers to the bone too! Full moon just ended, and I don’t think anyone’s ever gotten into so many fights in such a short amount of time before,” she stuck out her elbow, showing off an impressive bruise on her upper arm that had begun to heal into a sickly purplish-yellow.

“Lovely,” Kasen said, beginning to turn away, “Now if you’ll just excuse—,”

“Well, most of us are exhausted,” Aisu continued as if Kasen hadn’t spoken. She jerked a thumb towards Korra playfully, "But that little slug toad got a couple sick days off. I'd bet she's plenty well-rested by now."

Korra grimaced.

"It's true," she said, "I had the gall to collapse from exhaustion without Aisu's permission."

"In a _gym_ ," Aisu half-yelled, turning a few heads in their direction, "Which I still haven't forgiven you for, by the way."

Korra cocked a hip in annoyance when Kasen huffed a laugh under his breath.

“As I was saying,” he said quickly, adjusting his hat, “I really have to go—,”

"Is anyone else _starved_?" Aisu interrupted with a smile, "You wanna come with us for some noodles, Kasen?"

Kasen went silent for a moment, nostrils flaring.

"I'm working right now," he snapped, giving his messenger bag a sharp whack, "Follow up with a client. I have to deal with him in person in case he gets irrational about his wife not being here yet and tries to bend the building down around him."

"That's too bad." Aisu said, lacing and unlacing her fingers.

"Yes, sorry about that," he said, not sounding sorry at all. He glanced at his old watch, “Would you look at the time! _Goodbye._ ”

His hands folded into a traditional Water Tribe salutation automatically, giving them both a shallow bow that Korra and Aisu didn’t even have time to return before he was turning on his heel and stomping back into the crowd. He only paused to drop a small bundle of paper yuans in the ice-harpist's hat.

When he was gone, Korra glanced sideways at Aisu.

"So," she said, "We _are_ actually going to go get noodles, right? That offer wasn't just for Kasen?"

"Quiet, you. I know you miss him too," Aisu said, her hands on her hips as she watched Kasen go unhappily, “We haven’t seen him with any kind of regularity since we were Blue Lanterns. He was so _nice_ then.”

Briefly, Korra thought of Kasen handing out bread and fruit to the gaggle of filthy kids, laughing quietly as they climbed all over him. Korra had called him ‘Uncle’ until she’d made it into the Red Knives, at which point he stopped smiling at her openly. But Korra knew that the affection was still there, buried under his thick callouses of professionalism and seriousness. Korra ran a few steps to catch up to Aisu.

"I vote for Narook's!" she called out.

.o.O.o.

The usually spacious and quiet restaurant was stuffed to bursting point, extra tables and chairs shoved into every available space (as well as into a couple of unavailable spaces). Several waiters and waitresses squeezed through a maze of complaining patrons and sharp-edged furniture with expressions bordering on panic, orange sashes tied around their shoulders flashing brightly over the sea of blue.

"Maybe Narook's was a bad choice," Korra admitted. She leaned back in her seat and ran both hands through her loose hair, accidentally bumping her elbow into the Fire Nation boy sitting behind her. She straightened quickly and pressed her lips into a grimace of apology, but he barely glanced back at her, one hand fiddling with his obnoxiously red scarf.

Korra felt a bristle of annoyance under her skin, but brushed it away with imagined fingers.

The heat of the room was bordering on unbearable. Korra cupped her hands and blew on them carefully, a swirl of frosted breath catching the light of the poorly-placed romantic lantern in the centre of their table.

"It’s fine," Aisu said as she took up her chopsticks and stirred the deep green noodles carefully to mix the mess of orange dragon fish eggs into the broth. They popped as they were doused, a delicately salty aroma filtering through the smell of sweat and too many people breathing.

"It'd be better if Narook just let fewer people in at a time," Korra muttered as she took up her own chopsticks, grabbing a large piece of seal beef and stuffing it into her mouth, followed closely by a slurp of green noodles.

She hummed appreciatively, although Narook's quality was a little lower than usual. His motto of never turning away a hungry customer must have been taking its toll on the kitchens. A waiter squeezed past her with five bowls of noodles balanced on his arms.

Korra sniffed, rubbing the sheen of sweat off her forehead with the heel of her hand. Why wasn't anyone opening a window? Her head was starting to pound, egged on by the noise of the people talking over their noodles, and she wondered for a moment if she hadn’t really gotten over her cold yet. She slurped her noodles all the same, several snippets of conversation filtered through to her ears as she ate.

"— _I can’t seem to figure out what’s wro—"_

"— _there may be fireworks later in the Fire Nati—"_

"— _I think I left the tea on when we lef—"_

"— _ear about Shei Lan's son? He—"_

"— _didn't work, but it looks like it did—"_

"— _There's this secret tunnel that—"_

"— _can't just go around wiping out people I don't like."_

" _Sure you can! You're the Avatar—"_

Korra chocked on her noodles, inhaling some broth and careening forward in a sputtering, coughing mess. Aisu squeaked (in a way that should have been funny but wasn't) and nearly dropped the glass of water she'd been taking a sip from. Water spilled down her front in a dark stain _._

"What is it?" Aisu asked as Korra twisted around in her chair, covering her coughs with a shaking hand, "What's wrong?"

Korra's eyes darted over the faces of the customers in a panic. She twisted her head around further than it felt like it was meant to go and for a moment she imagined herself as an owl cat, twisting its head all the way around, until her elbow jammed into the side of the Fire Nation boy. The owl cat disappeared from her mind, her mouth muttering an apology quickly as her eyes continued to dart around.

He turned in his seat to face her more fully, frowning in a way that was half concerned and half annoyed. His face was long, with a pointed chin and straight nose that lead to a mouth pinched into a line. His amber eyes scrutinised her curiously, and Korra’s search for the person she had heard speaking halted with a jolt as she was struck by how familiar he looked. It wasn't until she found herself picturing a jagged burn scar covering half of his face and the name _Zuko_ echoed in her head that she realized exactly what the snippets of conversations were.

The sound of her own pulse made her ears ring, headache suddenly pounding and painful, with the colour of the boy’s red scarf egging on the ache like salt ground into a wound.

The Fire Nation boy glanced over his shoulder, looking for whatever it was she was staring at.

_A memory. His memory._

It was suddenly cold.

Aisu let out a loud curse of pain, and the glass slipped from her fingers and exploded on the floor.

Heads snapped towards the sound of shattering glass, but Korra spun in a different panic, unworried about shards or blood. Aisu's cry had been small, but specific. It had been a grunt of surprise that had risen to a curse of pain and a strangled choke of trying to keep silent; not at all a grunt of surprise at accidentally dropping something. Korra swallowed at the sight of Aisu cradling her hand to her chest, eyes wide.

"Aisu?" she asked, leaning forward, "Are you—"

"I'm fine," Aisu snapped, quickly hiding her hand under the table, "I just—I don't know. The water just got hot. Someone—," she frowned, and Korra could see her eyes flicker towards the Fire Nation boy, "—firebent it."

Korra felt an acute feeling of warmth in her chest shudder self-righteously. She grit her teeth and forced it back down until it flickered coolly like a disappointed candle. Her eyes met those of a waitress across the room, and she half-begged the girl to stay away. The girl hesitated, glancing back at the kitchen as if wondering if she should get Narook.

Aisu’s breathing slowed. She was turning towards the Fire Nation boy, face relaxing into a blank expression that made Korra swallow against the taste of fear on her tongue.

"Hey," Aisu said blankly, addressing the boy, "Hey, ash-for-brains."

The boy didn't seem to realize he was being spoken to at first, although several heads turned in his direction immediately. Two waitresses kneeled by the broken glass, apparently having decided against getting Narook, sweeping away shards with a jerky unease as they kept glancing at Aisu and the boy. Korra shifted in her seat. If the boy was smart he would deny it immediately, pretend to be a nonbender regardless of whether he was or not. But even so, his red scarf stood out sharply, as if calling out attention to the way he didn't fit in this Water Tribe crowd.

"Oi," Aisu said a little louder, her lip curling into the first visible signs of anger, "Boy, I'm talking to you." She stood, knocking her chair backwards. It bumped one of the kneeling waitresses, and she let out a small yelp of fear. The boy's head tilted towards them, regarding Aisu with confusion.

"What?" he asked, glancing at Korra for a second as if asking if she knew what was happening. Korra looked away quickly.

Aisu skirted around the table and around Korra, looming over the sitting boy without emotion. The boy's hands tensed; a habit of most benders when they felt threatened.

That would be all the proof Aisu would likely wait for, Korra realized. She bit her lip, contemplating sitting there and doing nothing. She didn't owe this stupid boy wearing the red scarf anything, and it would be so easy to let Aisu assume he was the bender responsible. She could get out of this without suspicion, she could get away with the bending slip up just this once. Her secret would be safe if she just _did nothing_.

_It is easy to do nothing_

Korra mentally grumbled at her inconvenient conscience, rubbing her temple.

"Aisu, stop," she said, reaching up and placing a hand on her shoulder. Aisu shook her off, not taking her eyes off the boy. He was now glaring at her from his seat, amber eyes sparking dangerously, but Korra could taste his underlying confusion in the air. Aisu made a fist, a twist of water creeping from her pouch and over her knuckles.

"Do you think that was _funny_?" Aisu asked, almost pleasantly, leaning forward with a half-smile, "Do you _like_ ruining peoples nice meals?"

The boy frowned, standing suddenly. Aisu was forced to step back as his chair pushed into her. He was a full head taller than Aisu, almost as tall as Huka, and although he appeared to be very thin beneath his loose grey jacket, Korra recognized the controlled movements of a fighter. She swallowed.

"Aisu—"

"What are you talking about?" the boy snapped, crossing his arms. The hint of a tattoo peaked out from the edge of his black fingerless glove. Korra jumped to her feet, grabbing Aisu's shoulder as she lunged to strike him.

"Aisu!" she said again, yanking Aisu backwards, "I don't think it was him."

"What?!" Aisu growled, snapping her head towards Korra as her calm expression began to spider into fury, "Who else could it possibly be? He's the only Fire Nation prick _here_."

Korra pouted slightly.

"I just don't think—."

"Korra, _shut up_."

Glass crunched under Aisu's foot as she changed her stance and shot a whip of water towards the boy. He made a small noise of surprise as his hands shot up with a small burst of fire to block. A cloud of steam hissed from the collision.

No one moved.

The crowd in the restaurant had gone silent, the people sitting at the closest tables looking too terrified to move. Korra cursed, grabbing Aisu's arm as she wound back to strike again and yanking it to the side. For a moment Aisu's face blanked, and then with a growl she turned on Korra, driving her elbow back.

It caught Korra on the side. The table shrieked a few inches backwards as Korra fell into it, dragging Aisu with her. Someone screamed.

"Aisu," Korra growled through clenched teeth, "Don't!"

" _Let me go_!" Aisu screeched, thrashing as Korra's arm snapped around her throat. Korra cupped the back of Aisu's neck with her palm, her elbow settling over the struggling girl's windpipe. She’d learned this early on in the Blue Lanterns, when one of the older kids would get rough with her or try to start a fight she didn’t feel like getting into. Korra stifted her arms to tighten around Aisu’s neck, twisting herself out of the reach of her flailing arms. She glared over Aisu's struggling body at the Fire Nation boy, who still held small flames on the tips of his fingers.

"Get out," she yelled, " _Now_."

The boy hesitated a moment. His eyes flickered to something behind Korra, most likely at the waitresses cowering on the ground among broken glass. He nodded once, then turned and began to cut through the chairs and tables in a beeline for the door.

As he disappeared onto the street, Korra counted to thirty in her head before releasing Aisu.

Her head snapped to the side as a frosted fist cracked against her cheek. Both of them panted, the adrenaline making Korra woozy.

"What the hell Korra?" Aisu snapped. Korra scowled, feeling what would surely be a bruise tomorrow on her cheekbone. Another one for the collection, she thought wryly reaching up to touch her cheek gently.

"I don't care if you want to beat up some jerkbender," Korra said, her voice low, "But can you just control yourself long enough to _look at where we are_?" Korra threw a hand in the direction of a full table next to them. A kid flinched away from her, eyes wide.

Aisu's chest was rising and falling, looking for all the world like a furious beast with wild eyes and bared teeth. Slowly, her face relaxed, an expression cold as ice creeping across the surface of a pond, and the terrifying calm that defined Aisu's fury took over her. Aisu slowly turned and pushed towards the exit without another word.

Murmurs began to rise from the tables, and Korra sighed. A handful of pink yuans and a grimaced apology later, Korra had practically fled from the restaurant, the sound of (good old) Narook yelling after her not to come back leaking into the streets.

Aisu was nowhere to be found among the chaotic crowd of blue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Korra and Aisu keep getting into fightsssss. But they still love each other ^3^  
> Yay more things! I hope it turned out ok.......  
> let me know! Also, Kasen is my baby and I love him. All of my OCs are my precious babies. But still, tell me about what you think in the comments. Like something? Didn't like something? Have a prediction? Headcanon? Wish for the future? A dream which you will chase into the skies of eternity to fulfill? I can't garruntee I can fulfill these things, but I can do my best!  
> SEE YOU NEXT TIME


	6. Passion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes things get heated.  
> Really heated.  
> Alternatively titled: a series of bad decisions made by Korra

Huka was shaking his head slowly.

"No," he said, "I haven't seen her, sorry."

Korra rubbed her cheek, still aching, and scowled at nothing in particular. Huka tutted at her, bopping her nose playfully.

"You should be more careful with your face," he said, smiling softly, "At this rate you'll be uglier than Ugly Ulek."

"Keep talking, wise guy," Korra muttered, "We'll see whose face is more messed up by the end of it."

Huka just kept smiling. He turned the ring on his right hand several times around his finger, a nervous habit.

"Sorry," He said again. The smile faded slightly, "Do you think Aisu will be okay on her own?"

Korra sighed, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"If we're lucky she'll punch a few walls and then go home to sleep. If we're unlucky we'll be dealing with the metalbenders by morning."

Huka wrinkled his nose.

"Right. I'll look around a bit too."

Korra almost thanked him, but Huka was already gone, cutting through the crowd with a speed that was unreasonable for someone his size.

It had already been almost an hour since Korra had started looking for Aisu, half hoping for a chance to apologize and half hoping to rescue whatever poor sap Aisu would end up taking out her anger on. She had spotted Irik and Kanshu watching water benders perform a mock fight (which was really more of a dance) but they hadn't seen Aisu either. Four members of Branch Eight later, and she'd found Huka.

Korra sighed, wandering down a side street with her fingers trailing against the rough earth that made up the buildings in this borough. The street was more of an alleyway, perhaps two arm lengths across, and blocked out most of the sky with its wide-swooping roof tiles. The rare sun peaked out directly in front of her, low enough in the sky to duck under the roof tiles. The ground was sloping gently down beneath her feet, and soon she could smell the salt of the sea in the air.

Somehow, she always ended up moving towards the bay.

As she walked, the blue banners became sparser as lanterns made of delicate ice replaced them. They twinkled in the fading sunlight like light bugs woven among the canopy of walls and balconies. Korra reached out as she passed one lantern that had begun to melt, refreezing the ice without breaking stride.

A woman spun past Korra, her skirts singing with hundreds of tiny blue shells as she danced with a man three heads taller than her. She wasn't the only one with loud attire; many of the woman and young girls who wandered around were wearing similar shells, a loud clattering rising in the air as they moved until it filled the street with a sound like rain.

A winter solstice celebration, Korra realized suddenly. It was winter in the Southern Water Tribe, and the people from the south were celebrating their homeland with skirts lined with shells and ice lanterns. Korra smiled softly, laughing under her breath as she allowed gravity to pull her further down the slope that lead to the ocean.

Korra only paused when she reached the bay, water lapping gently beneath the docks as she looked out towards the stubborn sun, refusing to dip below the horizon. It cast Air Temple Island into a dark silhouette, rimmed by orange.

There was no way she was finding Aisu. At least not in this festival, and definitely not while Aisu didn't want to be found. That much Korra should have accepted already. Maybe she _had_ accepted it, but knowing something was pointless never stopped her from doing it before.

She dug her toe into the concrete, kicking a few loose pebbles into the bay. At least Huka would know what to do; Huka always knew what to do. He'd talk to a beggar or two, smile sweetly at a blushing old woman, and next thing anyone knew Aisu would be home safe and sound, probably sleeping soundly with a small stuffed animal that no one would be able to tell Korra the origin of but was suspiciously well-loved.

Behind her, people were twisting and dancing, and the song of the shells made Korra's shoulders relax as the peoples' laughter and singing enveloped her. It was different from the tight energy of the summer festival. These people in a calmer, more solemn mood under a sky they pretended had no sun as the light of the world slept, to be reborn in the morning when the deepest darkness broke.

Perhaps stopping Aisu had been the wrong thing to do. It would only cause trouble for Korra in the long run, and who really cared if some Fire Nation boy was punched a few times? Having Aisu furious at her wouldn't help Korra when everything fell apart.

And everything _would_ fall apart eventually; Korra knew that now. Her bending slips were becoming more and more frequent, and it would only be a matter of time before someone saw a flame jump from her fingers and realize just who she really was.

She shivered, crossing her arms against the ocean wind and trying not to think of the visions that had started to invade her consciousness more and more acutely. Korra should be thankful that the Fire Nation boy had been there to blame it all on. But instead she'd tried to stop Aisu like an idiot.

She turned away from the ocean, wondering what she should do now that she was alone. She walked slowly, placing one foot in front of the other as she watched dancers twirl by in groups like colourful fish.

Several pairs of apparent lovers were huddled into deep doorways, smiling and whispering to one another as if they were alone. A blushing young boy presented a flower made of ice to his girlie, who blushed even deeper than him and accepted it awkwardly.

Korra flicked her fingers in a shooing motion, and the flower suddenly turned to water that fell between the girl's fingers. A small yelp of surprise rose up between them.

"That was mean."

Korra didn't turn towards the man who spoke from behind her, shrugging. The girl was starting to get all teary as she tried to apologize to the boy.

"It would have melted anyways. I just sped up the process," said Korra. The man behind her laughed quietly.

Korra glanced back, twisting her mouth in annoyance.

"So, did my friend ever end up finding you?"

The Fire Nation boy from Narook's shook his head. He was sitting on the front steps of a shop, cradling a bottle of soda and watching her. The same bright red scarf as before was draped around his shoulders, and he looked as if he may have splashed water onto his hair in an attempt to wash off some of the hair gel that glinted on the black strands. He jerked his chin in her direction.

"Nice bruises."

Korra touched her cheek carefully where Aisu had hit her. It was still tender, but it couldn't be more than a little pink by then. Then she remembered the one from a few days ago, and felt her cheeks flush hot.

"Thanks for your concern," she said dryly, turning her face away, "What are you doing here?"

He snorted, and Korra knew that he was rolling his eyes at that moment.

"Why did you defend me at Narook's?" he asked, but what the tone of his voice really said was ' _I'm not going to tell you._ ' Korra pouted, hands tensing into fists.

"Instead of asking stupid questions,” she said, “why don't you just _thank_ me?"

The boy inclined his head slightly, tipping his drink towards her in a mock salute.

"Thank you."

Korra huffed and crossed her arms.

"You're bloody welcome."

The silence between them was thick, lasting long enough for a cool breeze to tiptoe through the streets and ruffle Korra's hair so that it fell into her face. She shoved it back and frowned down at the boy. Her cheeks were still hot from the rush of confrontation, but the boy seemed bored. He wasn't even looking at her, and everything about the way he sat, leaned up against a door with a bold-lettered __Closed__ _s_ ign hanging on it, said that he was done talking to her.

He yawned.

Korra scowled, walking up to the boy and half-collapsing onto the step beside him, crossing her legs definitively. He glanced over at her, raising an eyebrow in questioning, but all she gave him in the way of an answer was a half-hearted punch on his arm.

"Ow," he complained, rubbing his shoulder, "What was that for?"

"Just passing it on" Korra said with a shrug, not meeting his eyes, "Aisu sends her regards."

His red scarf was bothering her. It was almost glaring in its brightness, clearly not an Agni Kai marker but similar enough that it put her on edge. At any rate, it marked him as Fire Nation almost as clearly as his golden eyes did. She leaned forward suddenly, poking at the crimson fabric.

"What are you trying to do, wearing that thing?" Korra asked, "It's unbelievably stupid to be wandering around this area with a red scarf like that. People here _hate_ the Fire Nation."

A small twitch at the corner of his mouth was the only indication that he had heard her. He raised the soda to his lips and took a long drink, the leather of his black gloves growing shiny from the condensation on the cold glass bottle. Korra frowned.

"Hell, it's almost like you _want_ someone like Aisu to pick a fight with you." She said, picking at the fabric of her pants. She waited a full ten seconds for him to deny it.

He was silent, lowering the bottle and cradling it in his hands.

Korra stared at him for a moment, and then snorted a laugh.

"You've got to be kidding. _Seriously_?"

His only answer was to shrug.

"Oh come on, did you or did you not want to fight her?" Korra asked, grinning, "There are only two possible answers. Was that why you didn't deny firebending Aisu's drink?"

"Maybe I _did_ firebend her drink," he said quietly, looking over at her.

"Liar." Korra scoffed.

The sound of laughter cut through the boy's intent yellow stare, making his eyes flicker back towards the children where they were now bent over laughing at an attempt at a new ice flower that had turned out looking more like a fat rabbit monkey. The giggles burst out of the both of them like dams unable to withstand the pressure of the pure ridiculousness of the situation.

The Fire Nation boy turned to look at her again.

"How would __you__ know that it wasn't me?"

Korra reached out and grabbed the bottle from his loose fingers, bringing it to her lips and taking a drink without looking at him. The sweet, sticky pop was familiar, but the rim had a hint of something that had come from him, giving the drink a foreign taste to it. She swallowed and put the bottle down on the concrete with a quiet _click_ _._

"I—," she paused to wipe her mouth on the back of her hand, "You just…didn't seem too keen to fight in a crowded place. You would have challenged her in the street or something."

"Hmm," he said, looking away from her. The response was a single note, altogether unconvinced and slightly amused, and it gave Korra the intense urge to reach out and hit him again.

"What?" she snapped. He shook his head slightly, pressing his lips together like he was trying not to smile.

"Nothing," he said in a way that meant something.

Korra ran both of her hands through her hair, jaw clenching.

"Alright, that's it," she said, shoving the boy's shoulder again and getting to her feet, "You want a fight? Fine. I know a spot."

The boy's face fell as he quickly shook his head.

"That's not—"

"Oh, come on," Korra said, nudging his knee with her toe, "I want to knock down the ego of the guy stupid enough to goad Aisu into a fight."

He scowled at her, grabbing the bottle of soda and holding it like a weapon for a moment. He didn't look away from Korra as he took a sip, lips closing around the rim tightly. Korra swallowed, and the boy lowered the soda with a breathed laugh.

"Alright," he said, standing up, "Fine."

Korra grinned, turning and jerking her head towards the bay.

"Follow me a few metres back."

The boy made a face, but nodded, falling into step behind her as they cut through the people dripping in blue and purple and under banners with moons painted onto them in varying quality.

.o.O.o.

"I didn't realize that there'd be people watching."

Korra pouted over her shoulder as she smoothed her hair back into a knot at the nape of her neck.

"You want to fight during the city festival and not get arrested?" she said, tugging on a pair of white gloves, "Then you fight for an audience." She jerked her chin vaguely towards the assorted group of folks cheering on a fight between two earthbenders. They were a part of the ring of spectators, but within a roped-off area full of people that were far too silent as they waited for their turn to fight.

The Fire Nation boy wrinkled his nose as one earthbender lost and a glint of golden yuans flashed in the crowd.

"Is this an illegal gambling spot?"

Korra feigned shock, covering her mouth and gasping sarcastically. The boy's mouth pressed into a hard, unamused line, but he dropped the topic.

Around the ring people clambered over each other to reach out and touch the winner, an old ritual in this particular fighting ring. It took skill and luck to win, and touching the victor supposedly passed those things on. Korra didn't much care for the ritual herself, but the earthbender man was beaming proudly as people slapped hands against his absurdly bare chest.

A cheer rose as the next pair went up to fight. Korra went on her toes to see them, an earthbender and a nonbender, while the Fire Nation boy took off his jacket and started to unbutton his shirt.

The earthbender was grinning confidently, clearly thinking he'd already won the fight, but the nonbender girl did not appear to be afraid.

Korra still didn't know the Fire Nation boy's name.

"Hey! Korra!"

She almost flinched at the voice, turning to smile tightly at the young Water Tribe man walking towards her, gold chains glinting from around his neck.

"Hi Shin" she said, staring at his arching eyebrows so she wouldn't have to look him in the eye. He reached out to ruffle her hair.

"I wasn't sure if you were going to show up this year. You guys have been busy lately, what with all the—"

Korra pushed Shin's hand away quickly, interrupting him with a falsely cheerful voice.

" _I didn't plan to_. But _this_ dumbass was trying to fight Aisu. I thought I'd teach the firebender a lesson."

The boy didn't even spare them a glance, watching the earthbender barely holding his own as the nonbender darted around him and struck hard. He had finished shedding his jacket, his undershirt off-white and old-looking.

Shin let out a low whistle.

"So then he challenged _you_? Does this guy have a death wish?"

The boy spared her a glance, his eyebrows rising in a silent question.

"I don't know. Probably." Korra said. Shin smiled, taking a pen and a creased piece of paper from his pocket. She watched him write her name down on the list of fighters, pausing on the line for her challenger and looking up at her expectantly. Korra remained silent.

"So… does he have a name?"

The Fire Nation boy scowled, looking over his shoulder at Shin.

"Mako," he said shortly, turning back towards the fight. Korra kept a straight face and nodded.

"Alright," Shin said with a grin, "I'll see if you guys can go next. I'm looking forward to _this_."

Korra grunted in agreement, watching Shin as he walked away and towards the man taking down bets. She swallowed and touched her hair knot carefully.

"Ex-boyfriend?" Mako asked as the nonbender's fist cracked against the earthbender's cheek, sending him crashing to the ground.

"Shut up, _Mako,_ " Korra barked, glaring at the ground. Her cheeks flushed as she realized that that sounded like a confirmation. Shin was _nearly ten years older_ than her, and he'd been her teacher back in her early training days as a Red Knife. She thought they'd be comrades. But then he'd, apparently, ditched the Triads altogether. Whispers suggested he'd actually gone to join the Triple Threats, believing the Red Monsoons to be close to collapse.

If that was true, he'd been wrong. Of course he'd been wrong. The Red Monsoons were stronger than ever.

The earthbender was dragged away, unconscious, and as the nonbender collected her winnings Korra made eye contact with Shin. He jerked his head towards the ring with a grin, mouthing 'You're up'. She walked forwards without a word.

Several people recognized her, and she saw a few place bets before Mako even realized it was their turn and followed her onto the pavement.

They stood in the middle of the churning circle, Mako watching Korra and Korra watching the crowd grinning and hollering. She tried to gage their reaction as the names of the fighters passed through word of mouth from Shin's position and all the way through the crowd like a ripple on a pond. Not many needed to hear "Korra. Waterbender" to know who she was, but several people craned their necks in interest when "Mako. Firebender" was said.

Korra could feel the eyes of the people on her and felt a thrill in her stomach. Turning to glare darkly at Mako, she shifted her stance into one for fighting, collecting a handful of water from the pouch at her hip so that it sat in the palm of her hand like a trembling stone.

Mako frowned at her aggressive stance. He'd left his gloves on, and the leather gleamed as he raised his fists in front of his face. One of his feet shifted forward.

Korra frowned. What the hell kind of stance was that? She met Mako's amber eyes, which seemed to almost look directly through her. They sparked with anger, and his jaw clenched with a murderous tension as a man shouted for the fight to begin.

Fire shot forward from Mako's fists, coming in two quick jabs, faster than she was used to a firebender moving. She dodged and twisted, only to have to avoid another attack from a different direction, and suddenly she realized what his strange stance was designed for. Not power, but speed. She threw up a block with a strike of water, diving down below the scalding cloud of steam and trying to whip out at his side. He moved, sending an arch of fire out of his heel in a high sweeping kick, and Korra was forced to roll out of the way.

The crowd was cheering now, their voices pressing against Korra's ears and blending with the sound of her singing blood. She grit her teeth, taking a handful of her bending water and freezing it into ice that engulfed her hands in deadly-sharp knives.

She darted forward, pushing away the fire with a small swipe, and rammed into Mako hard, her shoulder connecting with his stomach with a dull _crunch_ _._ He made a slight noise of discomfort, but then his knee was driving upwards, catching Korra on the shoulder. She jerked away from him, slamming her fist, slippery cold ice between her fingers, across his face.

The sound of the cheering crowd rose like a title wave as Mako stumbled back, a long cut carving a path from his chin to just under his left eye. Korra reached out a hand towards the bay. She was done with this fight.

A twist of her arm traveled through her in a rolling motion, and she prodded the energy of the water. The sense of it flooded towards her like a river pushing through the holes of a dam, filling her with a chilled power that grew stronger with each breath. Korra carefully moved with pushes and pulls wherever needed like a master puppeteer, and shaped the water into a swirling column that rose from the ocean like a serpent.

Mako's eyes flashed as the water rose and cast a shadow over them both. He didn't even flinch as it began to fly towards him, its tip freezing into a spearhead of ice and following Korra's ruthless aim. His hands moved to one side, two fingers cutting through the air in opposite circular motions that made the hairs on Korra's arms stand on end.

The sky exploded in light and sound, blasting Korra back a few feet.

She barely managed to keep her balance, a combination of shards of ice and scalding hot water raining down on her. She bent them away with a swipe, her chest shuddering in exertion and panic as she stared at Mako with wide eyes.

One of his arms was still extended, the tips of his fingers smoking in thin grey tendrils.

The word ran silently over Korra's wet lips. The air still cackled, its laughter a tingling shiver across her skin. Mako stared through her with half-lidded eyes cloudy with fury. His face creased frighteningly, and he moved in those circles again, slower this time, eyes set on Korra like a bulls-eye.

Her arm shot out and the water beneath his stance froze smooth. His feet slipped out from beneath him as he tried to step, throwing him backwards, and Mako's head cracked against the pavement.

Korra ran forward as he struggled to sit up, groping around as if searching for something to help him even though there was nothing there. She planted a foot on his chest, forcing him back down. His head hit the ground again and he gasped, ribcage struggling against her weight in a mad surge for air.

Mako's eyes were still clouded and angry, but beneath that there was a panic, a desperate begging. He was looking through her, at someone else's face, and he was pleading with them. She faltered, almost lifting her foot off his chest.

The world flipped as he shoved her back. Korra fell onto one knee, and suddenly Mako was standing above her, flames in hand. She grabbed towards the wet pavement, a jet of water striking him in the face, and froze it over his mouth and nose.

Mako stumbled away as he began to panic, clawing at the ice on his face with fiery nails, but Korra tightened her hands and the ice froze all over again. Gradually, his writhing slowed.

Mako fell forward.

A cheer rose as Korra lurched towards him, tearing the water from his face and throwing it away. She knelt at his side, shoving him over onto his back and leaning over his face, water droplets falling from her hair and disappearing into his soaking wet skin like rain into the ocean. His lips were parted, and a rasp of breath blew through them.

Korra held back a sigh of relief.

People started to slap her back, stealing some of her 'luck against lightening' in heaping handfuls as they dragged her to her feet and away from Mako. Her knees felt weak for a moment, but as she saw Shin approaching her with a leering grin, Korra steeled herself. He leaned over and said something to her, most of his words lost to the sound of cheering and people hitting her from all sides, but she caught something about "The fight of the year" and how people would be "talking about this for a long time". She almost asked him to tell them not to. Knocking out your opponent by drowning them with waterbending was a cheap win. But of course, Shin had no say in what the people would spread, so she just pressed her mouth into a thin line and nodded.

Shin glanced behind Korra and frowned.

"He's not dead, is he?"

Korra shook her head. Hands brushed her, on her arms, her back, her hair, slowing to something less harsh.

She would not turn around. She did not care about him.

"Maybe I should drag him to a healer or something," she said dryly, her voice rising a little at the word 'healer', "He hit his head pretty hard."

Shin waved his hand, already turning to talk to someone about the next fighter, and Korra took it to be a gesture of agreement.

Pushing away a hand that had tried to reach out to touch her face, Korra turned around, staring down at Mako's still body. The cut on his cheek was sending ripples of blood dripping onto the pavement in diluted strands. She reached out and tried to bend the blood away and back into the cut, but of course there was no full moon, and the scarlet war paint remained as immovable as fire or earth or air.

She ended up wiping away the blood with her thumb, staining her white gloves.

.o.O.o.

Korra was still waiting at the Moon Flower’s back door after the sun had set and the sky had grown deep and dark. Stars winked at her, foreign and strange, but of course they had always been there, hiding shyly behind rainclouds of Republic City.

The Moon Flower was busy, both at the front and at the back, with countless customers enjoying the lovely ladies' company over drinks and food and more than a few people being shepherded through the back door to get a healing hand after too much fun at the festival. They'd converted one of the upstairs rooms into a general clinic, the wood floors interspersed with hard grey pallets, which Korra had briefly glimpsed before the door had been all but slammed in her face by a frazzled Renya. Now she was sitting on the stoop of the back door, staring at the blank alley wall across from her with half-lidded eyes as she breathed the cool night air that grappled with a hint of the heat of the day. Her inner fire tried to warm itself in response, but she pushed it down on reflex, her learned reaction to the heat in her chest.

 _Stop that._ She scolded the warmth, as if it were a naughty pet. The flame seemed to cower, concentrating in her lungs like tiny pricks of white-hot energy.

Hours earlier, Ennai had come to meet her at the steps, giving her a bottle of disinfectant for her cuts and scrapes and a steaming cup of tea for hospitality’s sake. Korra had offered a pair of yuans, but Ennai had just pushed her offer away with a little smile.

“It's okay, Korra,” she had said, her red-painted lips stretching into a smile, “It's not a big deal. Just enjoy the festival. The sun will set soon, you should get over to the party before it's over.”

Korra had just shook her head, taking a sip of the tea and burning her lips in the process.

“It's fine,” she said, “I've got a headache anyways. I don't think I'll be able to really have fun.”

Ennai reached out as if to place a hand on Korra's shoulder, but paused, visibly hesitating. There was a long, tense moment between them, the wind disturbing the hair around their shoulders as they both stared at each other awkwardly. Finally, Ennai had sighed, a deep sound that Korra almost flinched at, and disappeared back into the Moon Flower’s door without another word.

And that was how Korra was left alone, pressing a scrap of cloth against the shiny red skin of her elbow and knees with hands that shook slightly. She hissed at the sting of the clear liquid Ennai had given her, but didn't even make a face as she threw back the cold tea in one gulp.

She laughed quietly to herself, tilting her head upwards and letting the cup clatter on the porch. The moon was flirting with the rooftops; newly waning, but still proud and bright as a lantern in the dark. Aki peaked out of the door and gave Korra a quick update on Mako's condition. Korra dismissed her with a small nod.

“Lucky bastard,” Korra muttered. He'd somehow escaped the fight with only some bruises on his abdomen and the long cut on his face to remember it by. Implausibly, he didn't have a concussion, and Renya was apparently just finishing up bandaging the cut.

Korra was just glad that her stunt with suffocation hadn't worked too well. Miraculously, his breathing was normal and she hadn't been as close to killing him as she'd thought. The head injury must have had him on the brink of losing consciousness; a lack of oxygen just pushed him over the edge.

She traced her foot over the ground in a small arch, back and forth, rhythmically to a beat she could faintly hear through the eerily empty streets. The celebrations down the way had continued after everyone else had set their festivities down with the sunlight. The dancers from the south kept the city alive with their heartbeat of music. Her thoughts spiraled to Otter Trail and bloodbending; a pulse in time with the ocean waves echoing in her bones as she held a life beneath her thumb like a delicately-shelled beetle.

It had always made her feel powerful to hold that over her enemies. As long as she was stronger, she would always be safe. That was what she'd known her whole life. But suddenly, the memory made her feel sick to her stomach. She tried to think of how many Agni Kais she'd killed with the technique.

She couldn't come up with a number.

A hand touched her shoulder, gentle enough that Korra didn't realize it at first. She looked up at Ennai. Her eyes were tired, but she didn't pull her hand away. Korra didn't push it off.

 “Your Fire Nation boy woke up,” she tilted her head towards the door, “You can go and see him if you want.”

Ennai was staring at her, Korra knew, but she couldn't bring herself to care. It wasn't uncommon for Korra to bring a brawling opponent to the Moon Flower after a fight, but she'd never waited around to see if they were okay before. Korra took a deep breath, standing up on legs that felt unsteady beneath her, Ennai's hand sliding off her shoulder.

"Thanks," she said. A floorboard creaked underfoot as she stepped into the Moon Flower.

Korra had never visited opponents after a fight.

Not once.

And now that she  _had,_  the change somehow didn't seem right, like she was breaking a rule and was just waiting to be penalized for it. When nothing happened, no red fan waved over her head, the thrill of breaking a rule and getting away with it went through her like an electric shock.

It felt good.

She took the stairs two at a time, Ennai behind her, and walked down the door-lined hallway quickly until she came to one that was left ajar. Mako was inside, lying on a pallet as Zin spoke to him in a low voice. Korra stepped beside Mako's pallet, looking down at him with her lip pressed out in annoyance. Zin quickly stepped away, turning to tend to a man that appeared to have broken his hand on the pallet next to Mako.

Mako was staring up at the ceiling with confused eyes, the amber strange and bright against his pale skin. He blinked very slowly, focusing on her silhouette looming over him. Korra's cheeks kept trying to tighten into a smile, but she managed to keep a straight face as she lifted her hand and held out three fingers.

"How many?" she asked dryly, looking down her nose at him.

"Three?"

"Perfect," she said with a nod, finally allowing herself to break into a wide grin, "I think you just might live."

Mako turned his face to the side, rubbing the back of his hand against his forehead. He muttered something in Fire Nation that Korra didn't understand, but it sounded sarcastic. She kicked his pallet, budging it to the side and making him jolt.

"Where's my congratulations?" she asked hotly, cocking her head to the side, "For my victory."

Mako frowned at her, then held up two thumbs.

"Top notch job," he said. He managed to say it with such sarcasm and malice that Korra couldn't help the cough-like laugh that came from her chest. His lips twitched into a smile of his own. Korra crouched down on the balls of her feet, resting her forearms against her knees.

"It was a good fight," she admitted, "You didn't mention that you could lightningbend."

"Yay? Well you never said anything about suffocation tactics."

Korra blew a raspberry at him, feeling a blush of shame creep up her neck.

"Oh, hush. That's basic waterbending self defense," she said, "You looked like you were aiming to  _kill_."

He grunted, an agreement or a denial, Korra wasn't sure, and pushed himself up onto his elbows. Korra leaned back so they wouldn't bonk foreheads.

"Where's my scarf?" he asked suddenly, turning to Korra. She raised her eyebrows at the hostile quirk to his lip.

"Right beside you," she said, nodding to the lump of bright red fabric sitting on the floor on his other side. His hands snapped out, shoulders relaxing even as he gripped the scarf far too tightly in his rush to twist it around his shoulders. He winced when he twisted too far to the side, arm snapping down to press his hand against his side.

"Ow," he said, sounding surprised. Korra frowned.

"It's not broken," she said, "You should make a full recovery. If you're lucky, you won't even get a scar on your face." she reached out and poked Mako's cheek, right above where the gaze was taped. He raised a hand to touch his cheek, eyes wide.

"You  _cut_  me?" he said incredulously.

"Don't you remember?"

Mako's hand migrated to his mouth, pressing a finger against his lips.

"Was it when you punched me?" he guessed.

"Good deduction."

Mako glanced around the room, apparently making  _another_  brilliant deduction.

"You brought me to a healer," he said, fingernail worrying his bandage. Korra cocked her head to the side.

"Don't sound so scandalized. I bring all the deadbeats here after a fight. Leaving people unconscious on the street leaves a bad taste in my mouth."

"Huh," Mako said, glancing around the room again. He paused, brow furrowing, "So I'm a _deadbeat_?"

"Eh," Korra said, "You're alright." She reached out and punched his shoulder, "That was a close fight, I'll admit it. I'll even buy you a drink as a sign of goodwill. What do you say?"

Mako breathed a laugh, and his light eyes seemed to brighten slightly as he looked up at her. Korra's inner fire swelled, and just this once she didn't scold it. His light eyes and lighter skin was comforting, like a promise that sparks rolling off her palm weren't so scary. He nodded slowly.

"Alright," he said, "Sounds good."

.o.O.o.

Korra moaned, her head thumping back against the door as Mako’s mouth worked its way down her neck and across her shoulder. Her fingers tangled in his hair as he nibbled on her collarbone, pressing his head more tightly against the skin so that his teeth scraped against it. He pulled back slightly, chuckling.

“Don’t be impatient,” he said, kissing the red mark. As a way of responding, Korra yanked his head back by a handful of hair, silencing his shout of _ow_ with a bruising kiss.

“Less clothes,” she breathed in the spaces between kisses. Mako made a small noise of agreement as he went in for another kiss, but somehow Korra didn’t think he was really listening. Not that she minded. He was good at kissing, if a little wet, and she liked the way it forced her to breathe him in. After a final, deeper kiss, she shoved him away, grinning as she grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head. A moment later her breast wrappings were on the floor and she was smiling lazily at Mako.

His attention wasn’t on her mouth anymore. His eyes had drifted lower, fixed on her chest with a sort of shock. Korra wondered for a moment what he’d expected there to be underneath her shirt, if not breasts. Most likely he hadn’t even expected to get this far, if she could count on the way his jaw was enacting the slowest dropping motion Korra had ever witnessed in her jaw-dropping witnessing life.

“Um,” he said dumbly, lifting his hands slightly, “Can I…?”

Korra reached for his wrists, drawing closer.

“Come ‘ere,” she said, gently pressing his palms against her breasts so that he had one in each hand, “It’s fine.”

He hesitated for a moment longer, looking at her as if expecting her to back away and laugh at him for falling for her elaborate prank. When all he received was a small smile and her hands sliding up his arms to rest on his shoulders, he relented, leaning forward to press his lips against the place where her chest began to slope away into her left breast.

Korra giggled under her breath as he backed them up into the couch, letting its edge take his knees out from under him and pulling her atop him so that she straddled his lap. This put her chest conveniently at face level, and he wasted no time going to work at them with his mouth and hands. Korra closed her eyes at the wet kisses on her skin.

“Mmm,” she said, pressing her fingers into his shoulders, “This is a terrible idea.”

Mako pulled away, not pausing before cupping his hand against the back of her neck and pulling her down into an open-mouthed kiss.

“I agree,” he said against her mouth, hand slipping down her neck to smooth over the curve of her back. Korra laughed quietly, pressing forward into another kiss. Their tongues twisted together, wet and warm and pleasant. Her fingers found his scarf, loosening it with a small tug only to be interrupted suddenly by Mako pulling back. He looked up at her, face conflicted. Korra blinked.

“What?” she asked, raising her hands palm out, “Am I not supposed to touch the scarf?”

“It’s…not that, exactly,” Mako said, quickly tightening the scarf back to its proper place, “Just, can we…” he trailed off, glancing at her with a combination of uncertainty and hope. Korra stared for a moment before snorting a laugh.

“Oh my God,” she said, pressing her fingers against her mouth as she giggled, “Mako, the scarf is _not_ staying.”

He looked genuinely hurt.

“But—,”

“Nope,” she said, playing with a strand of his hair that still had some gel on it, “Besides, it might get dirty. And wouldn’t that just be _terrible_?”

Mako blinked as if this thought had never occurred to him before, slowly nodding to himself.

“Good point,” he said, “I’ll just…” he tugged on his scarf until it was loose enough to pull over his head, throwing it in the direction of the coffee table.

“Mmhmm,” Korra agreed, “Can I help get the rest of this off?” she asked, tugging at the buttons on his shirt.

His face, already flushed, turned positively _scarlet_ beneath his bandage as he squeaked out a confirmation, and Korra stopped herself from laughing by pressing a kiss to his mouth, hands already on the first button. She made quick work of the buttons, sliding her hands beneath the fabric and sliding it off his shoulders. The moment his arms were free his palms were back on her breasts, squeezing lightly. Korra groaned, grinding down against his hips with slow, circular motions.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he gasped, thrusting up against her. The pressure was hot and tight, bordering on painful as she arched into his exploring hands.

“ _Ah_ ,” she said, grinding more tightly down to try and put more pressure on that spot, “Do you—mm—have something?”

Mako groaned, mouthing at her jaw hotly before pulling away with a sad smile.

“Yea,” he said, shifting beneath her, “Just…it’s in the other room. Can I…?”

Korra rolled off of him instead of responding, giving him a small shove off the couch. He stumbled to his feet, eyes wide as he looked at her lounging on the couch. His pants were looking uncomfortably tight.

“I’ll be here,” she said, pushing her hair out of her face with a grin. His gaze fell back to her chest in a way that was the furthest thing from inconspicuous. With a small smile he bolted from the room, disappearing down a hallway and banging a door open in his rush.

Korra took the opportunity to kick off her pants, leaving her naked in the humid air of the living room. Mako’s apartment was in a poorer sector of the city, barely within Agni Kai territory. It was close enough to the border that it probably wouldn’t be a problem, but enemy territory was enemy territory and still made a knot of nerves tie itself in her gut.

She let her hands smooth down her waist, following the quiet line from her navel to the place where she practically _pulsed_ in anticipation. She ran a thumb over the wet lips, biting her cheek as she pressed against the nub at their apex.

“Ah,” she muttered, “I’m an idiot.”

Mako wasn’t her first Fire Nation boy, at least, although what happened to the last one is hardly a reason to feel reassured about repeating the experience. And that one had been a _nonbender_. It didn’t speak very positive volumes about what might happen to Mako if Aisu ever caught wind of this little tryst. Yakuna herself didn’t usually concern herself with the intimate affairs of her Red Knives, but that didn’t mean the other members wouldn’t decide to teach Korra a lesson or two with their fists. She was so _stupid_ , she could see that clearer than she could that time she made out with that girl in the women’s bathroom of Narooks, only to be walked in on just as she’d gotten her hands anywhere interesting. She already _had_ enough secrets to keep, what was she doing adding another one to the list when—

Her back arched as she rubbed the nub _just the right way_ , a moan vibrating out of her throat.

There was a strangled noise, and Korra rolled her head towards where Mako was standing in front of her with a condom packet clutched in his hand. His erection was fully straining against his pants now, although Korra wasn’t sure how since it seemed like about 90% of his body’s blood had rushed directly to his cheeks, turning them a deeper scarlet then she was certain was healthy for someone recovering from a head injury.

She retracted her hand from between her legs, smiling at him as she lightly jumped to her feet and bounced up to him (perhaps a _little_ more than strictly necessary, she thought as his eyes jumped to her breasts) and slapped her hands onto each of his bright red cheeks. She giggled, leaning in and kissing the tip of his nose.

“Well I’ll be damned,” she said, “You’re kinda cute like this.”

“Cute?!” he sputtered, eyes darting away guiltily, “That’s not—“

Korra whacked his shoulder, interrupting his “ _ow”_ by hooking her fingers into his belt loops and shoving him back.

“Pants. Off,” she demanded, pouting slightly as she backed away from him and let herself fall onto the couch. Crossing her ankles, she jerked her head in his direction, “Preferably today, if you don’t mind.”

But Mako wasn’t listening to her. He was hesitating, rolling the condom package between his fingers as he glanced from her to the floor and back again with honest to God _uncertainly_. After a moment he leaned over and placed the condom on the side table, getting to his knees in front of her and putting his hands on her knees. Korra jerked away from his touch.

“What are you—,”

“I want to do something first,” he said, gently pushing her legs apart. Her ankles uncrossed as he glanced up at her shyly, “Can I?”

Korra had barely gotten out a quiet “ok” before his hands were smoothing over the insides of her thighs, mouth trailing behind. When he touched her, it was hesitantly, asking permission in every rub and caress. It didn’t really do much for Korra, to be honest, but she liked the way his face looked as he explored her gently. He glanced up at her once, twice, three times before venturing forward and pressing a kiss to the wet warmth. Korra giggled when she felt his tongue flick out hesitantly, making him pull back in horror. She shook her head, grinning at him.

“Here,” she said, reaching down and running a finger between her lips. She slid two fingers inside herself, curling them slightly as she worked them in a rough “come hither” motion, “I like it _deep_ ,” she pressed her thumb against her nub, “and _slow_.”

She pulled her hand away, leaning forward to run a slick finger along his cheek with a smile.

Mako made a noise that may have been a word, practically leaking steam from the ears. Korra felt herself flush with the second-hand embarrassment, quickly turning away to hide her own blush.

“Oh my God,” she said, burying her face in the crook of her arm, “Don’t _look_ at me like that, it’s too—AH!”

She was interrupted with his mouth pressed much more aggressively against her, tongue pressing inside her stiffly. He pulled away, gently running his teeth against her before going back in with his tongue, building a rhythm. He repeated his ministrations over and over, slowly growing more confident as he shifted her legs so that they rested on his shoulders and took a breath before going in again, kissing and licking and thrusting with his tongue.

Korra wasn’t sure what he did, but suddenly there was an intense burst of pleasure stabbing up her spine and she was tangling her hand roughly in his hair.

He pulled away again, alarmed.

“Are you o—.”

“Do that again!” she snapped, shoving his face back down. He made a noise against her in surprise, but complied all the same. It took a few more tries to get it right, but when he managed to get it again she _moaned_.

“Yessssssss,” she hissed, “Don’t you dare stop, don’t you dare fuckingnnnggggggggg!”

He kept at it, again and again with his tongue and his lips between hot breaths of air against her that made her shiver and pull his hair harder, more insistent for him to _do that thing again_ and keening as he complied.

When she came, it was with an arched back and thighs that spasmed on either side of his face as she threw her head back against the couch. He kept moving his mouth against her even as she fell back limply, breathing heavy.

She reached forward and flicked his forehead, making him pull away with a start. His eyes were wide and dark, pupils blown so wide that she could almost imagine they were brown instead of gold, and his lips were swollen and wet.

“Come ‘ere,” she murmured, pulling on his shoulders until he relented and leaned forward so that he was close enough to kiss. She pressed her lips against his, tasting herself on his tongue as it tangled with her own.

“Your turn,” she said, reaching down to play with the button of his pants. She smiled at him coyly, running her tongue over her bottom lip.

He slapped her hand away.

“Uh,” he said, eloquently, when she raised a questioning eyebrow at him, “I—um—don’t think…I mean. It would be _nice_ , but I don’t really, you know, with the _mouth_ thing, I think I…”

Korra cocked her head to the side, frowning.

“Is that a ‘no’?” she asked, the button still between her fingers. He was hard, obvious as it pressed against her thigh, but his face was unsure. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the dread of it.

“Y-yeah,” he said, finally wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, “That’s a no.”

“Alright,” Korra said, pressing her lips to the corner of his mouth, “Then how would you like to do this? Can I at least get your pants off?”

Mako hummed his approval, relaxing slightly under her hands as he turned his head to kiss her more fully on the mouth. Korra let herself go to the kiss, feeling the give and take of their mouths as they pressed together rhythmically. She kept her hands busy by finally unbuttoning his pants, pulling his zipper down in a tear of teeth snapping apart and sliding her hand into the fabric to run her fingers through the course hair beneath. Mako’s hands disappeared from the back of her head, instead going to his pants. He made short work of pulling them down and away, underwear and all, so that their legs could tangle together nakedly.

Korra giggled against his mouth, pulling away with a _smack_ to glance meaningfully over at the condom. Mako wasted no time scrambling to reach for it, fiddling with the package between his fingers until he finally made a clean tear along the top and pulled the condom out. When he slid it on, it was with shaking hands.

Korra put her hands over his.

“You ok?” she asked, “You seem a little…”

“I’m fine,” he said, smiling as he reached out and brushed a thumb over her cheekbone. Korra leaned into the touch, letting him cup her bruised cheek in his hand. Her eyes fluttered closed as he moved in for a kiss, inhaling as their mouths pressed together hard. She nipped at his bottom lip playfully, biting down even harder when he gave her hair a little warning tug.

She pulled back.

“Lie down,” she suggested, playing with a piece of his hair that still had a bit of gel in it, “You’re hurt. I’ll run the show.”

“If you insist,” he laughed, releasing her to turn and sit heavily on the couch with a quiet _oof_. Korra rolled her eyes, grabbing his shoulders and shoving him down so that his head was on the arm rest, looking up at her with misty eyes. She bit her lip at the view, enjoying it for a few seconds before leaning forward and sucking a mark into his collarbone. Mako sighed as she nipped at the skin and pressed the flat of her tongue against the pink mark she left behind, hands working down his torso the whole time. He giggled when her hands reached his waist and was quick to snatch up her wrists before she could explore this new ticklish zone too thoroughly.

“You’re stalling,” he said. Korra grinned at him, finally reaching down and grabbing him where he was hot and hard.

“Am I?” she said, giving him a few pumps, “Oh no, poor you.”

Mako barred his teeth, hands reaching for her hips, but Korra grabbed his forearms and pinned them on either side of his head. She leaned over so that her mouth was by his ear, breathing hotly.

“Patience, hon,” she whispered, “Just enjoy the show.”

She leaned back, giving him one last coy smile before reaching up with one hand to cup her breast and reaching down with the other to position him just right against her entrance.

She slid down with a happy hum, settling down against his hipbones with a satisfying ache humming beneath her skin. Mako exhaled as she rested her weight atop him, eyes half lidded as his hands made their way back to her hips. Korra smiled, letting his palms remain as she started to grind down on him in a tight circle. He groaned, fingers tightening so that his fingernails scraped against her skin.

“Mmm,” she said happily, lifting herself up so that only the head of his cock was inside her before sliding back down to the hilt, “lovely.”

Mako was breathing fast now.

“Can I—,”

“Move with me,” Korra interrupted, pushing her hair away from her face with splayed fingers. She ground against him and, obediently, he followed her movement. He pressed up as she pressed down, moving against her so that the heat and the pressure ebbed and flowed like waves against a beach.

Korra made a small noise when he suddenly thrust up into her, knees locking on either side of him at the hot pressure inside her. He seemed to take this as permission to do it again, his upward grinds turning into thrusts as her hips ground into him more and more roughly, trying to find that relief in the friction and closeness.

He was as uncontrollable as the ocean in a storm, but the waves were hers to ride as she rose and fell with him, making small noises from the centre of her chest as the waters got rougher and she had to scramble for balance, hand snapping to the top of the couch to keep her grounded enough to keep moving, harder and faster every second as the wind howled in her ears like a hollow heartbeat.

Suddenly he was sitting up against her, his chest against her chest and arms running up and down her back as he muttered into her ear in fast-paced Fire Nation. She grabbed at his shoulders, but was too far gone to bother trying to push him back down. Somehow, she ended up wrapped around him instead, arms circling his neck and legs circling his hips as he thrust up into her in abandon.

“Ah!” she said, face scrunching as the heat started to coil in her belly like a snake, “I’m gonna—,”

Mako shuddered beneath her, pressing his mouth against her shoulder and coming with a muffled yell. His thrusts stuttered wildly and slowed, the loss of rhythm pulling Korra back just as she was close to the edge. He went limp in her arms, panting wetly against her neck and going soft inside her.

There was a pause.

“Shit,” Mako said, pulling back with a pained expression, “I didn’t mean to—,”

Korra shoved him away, scowling at him as he flinched away from her.

“Finish it, you little shit,” she hissed, spreading her legs, “You can’t just wind me up like that and just—,”

“On it,” Mako said, scrambling to get closer to her again. His fingers sunk into her at the same moment that his mouth met hers, working her hard right from the start with fingers that were stiff-straight.

“Curl them,” Korra said, grabbing a handful of hair and kissing him hard, “Work them against the—,” she broke off in a moan, grinding frantically against his hand as she started to get back what she had felt when they were connected and panting into each other’s mouths. It didn’t take long for him to find a rhythm, and soon enough she was tensing all along her body as she came.

They laid against the couch, exhausted and spent, for a few more seconds.

“I can’t help but notice,” he muttered against her neck, “That you got to come twice.”

Korra slapped his shoulder.

“Shut up, tomato face,” she muttered, “At least I didn’t build you up and leave you hanging.”

Mako grunted in agreement, lifting up his head and pressing a wet kiss to her cheek.

“How’re the bruises?” he asked lazily, trailing his nose against the purpling splotch on her face.

“Fine,” she said, “How’s the ribs?”

“Can’t even feel them,” he said, prodding them with his fingers, “…yet.”

Korra laughed, rubbing the place on his jaw where the gauze was now hanging by a corner of tape. By some miracle, the cut hadn’t reopened.

“You’ll be fine, you big baby,” she said, grinning before pressing one last kiss to his mouth before pushing away. She hummed to herself as she scooped up her clothes, hopping a little to shimmy back into her pants and re-winding her breast wraps with quick, practiced movements. He watched her with gentle fascination as she tied the end off and yanked her shirt back over her head, tousling her hair with her fingers so that it didn’t look so much like post-coital hair and more like stylishly-messy hair.

“How do I look?” she asked, peaking over her shoulder at where Mako watched her lazily from the couch, still stark naked.

“Lovely,” he said through a yawn, extending a hand to her, “Now come on, let’s go to sleep. I’m beat.”

Korra laughed quietly. At his confused expression, she pressed her mouth into a line to keep herself from smiling.

“Sorry, hon,” she said, “I can’t stay. If I’m not home tonight then I’ll have hell to pay from Aisu.”

Mako frowned.

“Then maybe next time—,”

“No,” Korra interrupted, shaking her head, “No next times allowed. Honestly, once was probably one time too many. It was nice, but it’s not worth the risk to make this a regular thing.”

Mako looked so devastated for a moment that Korra couldn’t help but step forward and press an apologetic kiss to his forehead.

“Maybe I’ll see you around?” he asked, reaching out to grab for her hand as she tried to pull away. Korra chuckled darkly.

“For your sake,” she said, “I sure as hell hope not.”

Reaching into her pocket to touch the pendant tucked there, she gave Mako one last smile and turned to go.

She slammed the door behind her on the way out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and here you have it, folks. Baby's first smut scene. It was weird for me to write, to be honest. I'd be working and suddenly my vagina would be like "hello" and I'd have to go "not now, vagina, I'm working" and it was all very strange.
> 
> also: that rush when parents walk in on you writing smut. Who needs drugs when you have races to minimize the window as FAST AS FUCKING POSSIBLE.
> 
> EDIT: 07/07/17 So. It's been a while. I've tried several times to continue this story, but the truth is this: I can't do it. I mean I physically can't. I wrote this fic during the darkest time of my life. This fic was me coping with depression, anxiety, and suicide. I was looking at my notes and it was actually supposed to end with Korra killing herself. I stopped writing when I started to get better. After medication, therapy, and coming out as bisexual, I am in a much better place, surrounded by people who love and support me. But when I try to continue this story, it puts me back in the mindframe I had when I first started it. After forcing myself to write to the point of a panic attack, I've decided it's not worth it. I've loved this show, this fandom, and this story, but at the end of the day I love myself more. Thank you to everyone who has read and enjoyed this story. I'm sorry it's ending this way. 

**Author's Note:**

> who wants to comment and kudos?  
> You do. That's who wants to comment and kudos.  
> (pretty please?)


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